The Last Thing I Said Was
by Sakura123
Summary: Angela Hansen's world collapsed on her. If she was screaming, it wasn't aloud and it was nowhere Herc could hear her. AU 4 Part Prompt fill, "in which Herc saved his wife instead of Chuck", for pacificrimkink.
1. This Song Has Gone On For So Long

**Title:** The Last Thing I Said Was

**Summary:** Angela Hansen's world collapsed in on her. If she was screaming, it wasn't aloud and it was nowhere Herc could hear her.

**Disclaimer:** _Pacific Rim_ and all things related is property of Guillermo del Toro, Travis Beacham and Legendary pictures.

**Notes:** for anon prompt via pacificrimkink "AU in which Herc saved his wife instead of Chuck and everything is more or less the same as the movie. (as in they both pilot a Jaeger together, and they're both still emotionally constipated with tons of unspoken grief/anger between the two of them) bonus if it ends the way of the movie".

* * *

**01: ****This Song Has Gone On For So Long**

* * *

Things weren't usually so quite around this time of night when he came home. Stepping inside the house he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and left it lying on the floor; he'd get admonished for leaving his things lying around, but he didn't care tonight.

He'd spent all day at the base on high alert, mingling with others who'd been nothing except enamored in the events that unfolded over the last six days, almost running on into the next week. It's not as though the attack happened right up the street from where they lived, but it was hard to convince themselves that this was an otherwise isolated incident. Maybe it was, but it left three cities clear across the other side of the ocean in a big fucking ruins. If that wasn't cause for concern for the world at large, he wasn't sure what was.

He went through the motions of checking all the locks on the house, nothing budged, and everything was as it should've been with one exception. Entering Chuck's bedroom revealed the bed was empty and still made; he never slept in it. Leaving the door ajar, Herc tiptoed down to the end of the hall. The door barely creaked when he vied to slip through the space between it and the doorframe.

Angela lay on her side, arms around their son. Herc was never allowed to bunk with his parents after his ninth birthday. They were adamant that he learned to be on his own, sleep on his own. Coddling did neither him nor Scott any good, especially if the goal was that they were to become big strapping men. Angela, on the other hand, was never raised on the stipulation that she had to become independent at a particular age.

Her parents allowed her to sleep with them until she was ready to join her sister in their shared bedroom. She was seven when that happened. She seemed to be using the same parenting technique as her family and he had fight hard not to fall back on his family's rhetoric and shoo their son off to his own bed. The last time he did that, Chuck wet the bed and tried to pass it off as sweat.

Mother and son remained undisturbed as he went through the motions of ridding himself of his civvies. Content with his boxers, he slowly lowered himself on the bed. Angela's back expanded with her breath. Herc rest his chin on her shoulder. "Angie, you awake?"

Angela turned so that she was lying on her back. "Kind've," She yawned. She opened her eyes, they were red and puffy, either from sleep or crying somewhere Chuck can't hear her. "How are you?"

"Really, really tired," He replied. "We got debriefed, mostly just sit around reading newspapers waiting for something to not happen."

"Is there anything you can tell me?" She placed her hands over Chuck's ears.

"Only that American government is setting up an emergency alert system for another situation like this."

"But, it's over now, right?" Angela tried to keep her tone even and her voice low. "They killed it yesterday."

"Yeah, that's the story," Herc said. "I don't think they know, really."

"But, something that big- there couldn't be any more of them, right?" She wasn't looking for the truth, just some kind of reassurance that this one incident wouldn't repeat itself. "I don't know," Herc didn't do her the disservice of lying to her. Removing her hands from her son's ears, she adjusted herself so that he could lie next to her. As he prepared to close his eyes Chuck sat upright, bed haired and ears at attention.

He turned and graced his father with biggest smile. "Dad!" The boy scrambled over his mother, Angela let out an exaggerated groan when his knees punched her stomach. She rolled onto her side, tripping him up as he fell onto Herc. "You're supposed to be asleep, young man," Angela shook her head at his failed attempt to sound like stern parent.


	2. I Did Kill You, Didn't I?

**02: I Did Kill You, Didn't I?**

* * *

They came back. She didn't think it was possible, but they came back. First Manila, then Cabo and another city. Each time they brought the possibility of an attack closer and closer to home. They lived under the pretense of keeping their son as comfortable as possible without ever completely lying to him. The latter was relatively impossible to do, anyway. Everyone was talking about it, Chuck wasn't stupid and he prided himself on being a master eavesdropper. Even when they thought they were being careful, Chuck would let slip that he managed to overhear them anyway.

What they could and couldn't tell him, what Herc could and couldn't tell her, it was limited to say the least. Both she and Chuck were a pair of cats crawling up the wall, waiting for some kind of confirmation they knew they couldn't get. Still, she tried her best to function as though they were completely normal, even when Herc's absences garnered more questions than she cared to answer.

* * *

September 2, 2014 was a completely normal day. Herc was gone, Chuck was fast asleep beside her. Getting him up was as easy was promising him candy for lunch, even if he turned his nose up at it with all the air of an "grown up". She normally let him walk to school, but she was running late and she wanted to spend just a little more time with him, show him his parents weren't deliberately ignoring him.

Chuck hugged his backpack to his chest, chin resting on top of the bag. He kicked the bottom of the glove compartment out of boredom. "When's dad coming back?" He asked. His mum shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow," Angela reached over to ruffle his hair. Chuck ducked lower in his chair, frowning at the public display of affection. "He'll call, Chas, don't worry."

"Why does he have to be gone all the time anyway? It's not like the Kaiju are attacking the city," Chuck argued.

"Well, no, but they're- I guess their kind of close, so we just have to be prepared, you know? The teachers at school, they've been running drills right?"

"Yes. Leave the class rooms in an orderly fashion, don't leave you're group, head for the gym until we're told it's safe. If it's not, we get into the buses, remain calm," Chuck recounted the procedure almost in one breath. Angela nodded in approval. "Good on ya, man," She raised a hand for a high-five. Her son gave her something of a long suffering expression, almost pleading. "Oh, c'mon, don't leave your mum hanging," Angela wiggled her fingers. Chuck obliged her request as the car rolled into the school parking lot.

"Alright, Chas," She smiled. "Be good in school, you hear?"

"Yeah, yeah," He was out of the car before she could request a kiss on the cheek. She watched him rush across the parking lot and fall into the crowd of children, at ease and completely focused on the situation at hand. Rubbing her temples, Angela pulled out of the lot and headed for work.

* * *

Everytime she heard a jet flying somewhere overhead it was hard not to think Herc was in every single one. Work distracted her but only so much, playing on the computer she worked on finishing her project in-between a game of solitary and losing three rounds of Mummy Maze. Angela fished her cell phone from her purse. She stared at the illuminated screen in contemplation. Herc wouldn't have his phone on him, she didn't think, and she doubted they would allow him to answer it.

Still, didn't hurt to shoot one down the electronic ether. "Hope you're doing well. I'm bored (sad face)". Angela nodded in approval of her own typing skills and sent the message in concurrence with a rumble strong enough to rattle the glass and the very foundation round them. She grabbed the edges of her desk, her heart jumped into her throat and she looked around her environment, unsure if she should start laughing or questioning what just happened.

Her question was answered when the sirens drifted out from the background like an old memory, breaking her train of thought. The pencil fell from her hand as her co-workers rose from their desks and approach the windows. The wide expanse of city suddenly became daunting from their floor, the sixteenth. She knows better than to look directly toward whatever it is that's captured the eyes of her comrades. _Get up Angela, move toward an exit, don't get caught in the headlights._

Rising slowly from the desk, she lays the picture frame sitting next to her printer facedown and opens the back. Taking the picture out of the frame, she folds it until its small enough to fit into her palm and stuffs it into her bra. Angela stepped away from her cubical as one of their supervisors, Madeline, entered the office.

"Okay, guys, I think we should really get moving," She snapped her fingers and gestured toward the door.

No one moved from their position, they were all enamored with the possibility of seeing something outside the window.

"Alright, let's go!" Everyone moved once Madeline's voice became sharper, their eyes lingered on the windows but they were moving calmly toward the exit. Angela remained on the outside of the crowd, moving toward Madeline. "Maddy, what's going on?"

"Isn't it obvious? There's a Kaiju somewhere off the coastline. Military's been deployed to prevent it from reaching the city, but I'm not sure they can stop it," Maddy whispered.

"But, why-"

"Whoever you have to call, whoever you have to get, I'd do it now," Maddy warned, pushing Angela toward the office's exit with the others. Angela remained on the outskirts of the crowd moving toward the emergency exit. The sirens got louder the further down into the building they went. The cell phone vibrated in Angela hands, she looked down, her pace on the stairs slowing.

"Hey, move it, lady!" Angela braced herself against the railing when she was pushed. The cell phone fell from her hands and over the railing. "No!" Angela could not stop the crowd behind her from shoving her along. "You bastard, that was my phone!"

"Keep moving, lady, we don't wanna die because of you!" Angela turned, falling back on her temper, and thought to give the stranger a piece of her mind. Another tremor hit the building followed by another, this time stronger. The walls around them actually groaned. She felt the energy the crowd around her shift from distressed to full blown panic. Angela felt her legs buckle as she pushed down the stairwell. She threw her hands out in front of her to brace herself for the fall. Instead, she hit a woman right in front of her and they both tumbled, taking a number of others with her.

The woman fell on screamed right into her ear, but her pain went unnoticed by the people around her. Angela cried out when her hands were stepped on and her head kicked by the rushing mob. Without so much as thinking she made sure her body covered the woman below her and shielded her head with her arms.

* * *

Angela navigated the empty stairwell in a daze; her head throbbed furiously from the beating it took and her body was in no better shape. The woman she fell on was still conscious when she came to. She'd barely managed to pull herself out from under her presumed dead weight. Angela rolled away from the woman's legs find her periwinkle cardigan and shirt was now a pale red.

Staring down at her hands she slowly began register the blood that soaked her hair and clothes, realizing the young woman lying against the wall was bleeding out somewhere. Their eyes met, her eyes were clouded and barely registering what was in front of her, but she had half a mind to realize what happened. "They just ran over us… why would they do that?" She sobbed.

Angela didn't have an answer.

Angela draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled the girl up to her feet. She cried all the way down the stairwell, thrashing against the pain in her leg. The interior of the building had seen better days; everything in the halls was overturned, shattered or broken. Angela coughed at the smell of dust and iron, the steady rhythm of explosions let her know the fighting couldn't be too far away from where she was now. She hoped Chuck and Herc were safe.

They entered the basement. A group of employees who didn't make it inside the sheltered rooms were either pounding on the door or wandering around, praying nothing fell on them. Madeline stepped out of the spooked crowd, astonished to see her. "I thought you were dead," She whispered as she helped her lay the girl on the ground. Angela held her tongue, unsure if she should be angry on behalf of the girl or herself.

* * *

Staying in the building was a mistake, she thought. The Kaiju had survived whatever the military had thrown at it at first and breached the city. The alarms appeared to be roaring twice as loud now as the basement doors and emergency exits opened and let everyone out and left them to their own devices.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"B-Becky, Becky Rinehart," The girl lying on the floor next to her whimpered. She couldn't have been any older than eighteen or twenty.

"Angela-"

"Okay, Becky, I know you're hurt, but I'm gonna fix you up, alright?"

"Are you doctor?"

"No, but I've watched plenty of _ER_ back in the day. I think that counts, right?"

Becky started to cry.

"Angela, c'mon, they're going to leave us behind!"

"Am I g-gonna die?"

"No, no of course not, sweetie," Angela forced a smile as she fumbled to tie another torn piece of her shirt around the girl's leg. "You'll be fine, I promise."

"Angela, please!"

"I am not leaving without her, Madeline."

"She's dead!" Madeline cried. "She's already lost too much blood, we can't help her."

"Listen, Madeline, just go without me!" Angela snapped. "Go, don't wait for me. Just go." Her supervisor stared her down like she was crazy, but she left without another word. Angela listened to her leave, biting the inside of her mouth when the basement door screeched open and Madeline's panicked cries echoed further and further away.

Angela had no means of communicating with her family, she wasn't running as blindly as everyone else, but she was trying to help someone. Even if she didn't get them out of this situation, she could at least say she died trying to do something for somebody. "How's the leg?"

"It hurts," Becky hiccupped. "Is it still bleeding?"

"Just, a little," Angela answered. "But I think it's okay for now." She paused. "Listen, we've got to get out of here, okay? But I'm gonna have to move you."

Becky shook her head frantically. "No, no, please don't."

"Becky, I have to," Angela reaffirmed. "Just hang on, alright?" Giving the girl's arm one final squeeze, Angela rose to her feet and headed for the door in concurrence with the roar that was no longer as distant as she remembered. Angela froze for a second, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "Okay, just—just hang on Becky, I'm gonna get the door open!"

Angela hobbled toward the doorway. Next to the door was a trashcan. Grabbing it by the rim, she moved to push the door open with her shoulder and block it with the trashcan. She tapped it slightly with her shoulder and the door swung all the way open. Angela's eyes became wide as saucers.

"Herc," She sounded both terrified and relieved to see him. Herc seemed to assess the situation in front of him in mere seconds; his expression shifted to mirror hers before becoming hard, focused. He grabbed her arms, pulling her out of the room. "We need to move, now!" He bellowed over the noise growing the background. Angela nodded and shook her head all at once; she looked back to the door kept half opened by the trashcan she left on the threshold. "No, I can't go, I can't leave Becky-"

Herc doesn't dignify her with a response. Angela struggled despite his belief. It wasn't like wrangling a child, grabbing them up and just running would be simple. Angela was strong enough to pull him away from the stairway. "No, I cannot leave that girl behind-"

"Listen to me, we cannot stay here!" Herc bellowed. "We will die and our son will have no one."

"She's right in the room-" Herc turned as another tremor hit the building, this time strong enough to knock them both over. Angela's head hit the floor, white light burst behind her eyes and vanished almost immediately afterward. Another tremor shook the building; she let out what sounded like a scream and clung to the body hovering over her. Her head throbbed and vision struggled to fall back into focus. She felt herself being lifted off the ground by her husband.

Time seemed to pass every time her eyes opened, but she couldn't see anything beyond faint impressions and outlines. The beat of her heart falls in sync with what might be a rotor (and if that's the case, she should be worried). Everything was off balance. She thought of Chuck and hoped she'd be home in time to make dinner.

* * *

The helicopter landed at the base just half an hour after the others. The civilians and soldiers crowded around him made him keenly aware of the woman hanging in his arms, head lulled against his shoulder. He doesn't feel like a hero, he doesn't feel as though he's accomplished much of anything despite the evidence to contrary.

Medical was standing by and waiting for them to arrive. Herc watched as the women and children around him was tended to. Angela hadn't moved since he reached the exterior of the building where the final helicopter was waiting for him. He hoped against probability that he was wrong - or right - for making the choice to come and get her. He followed the gurney she was laid upon as far as the makeshift hospital they set up inside the hangar.

Herc would've gone further but it was hard to dissuade Stacker's grip once it got a hold of his arm. The man seemed to appear out of nowhere, yet his dark blue suit stood out against the faded greens and browns of the hangar. "I need to talk to you," Herc turned to face the RAF pilot with fire in his eyes. On any other occasion he would oblige the man, allow him take him aside and talk. But he was rattled, not thinking straight or according to how he was taught. He had half a mind to yank his arm from his grasp and tell him piss off, but his next words stopped him cold. "It's about your son."

Herc's heart stopped, he cast a look behind him. Angela was already gone from his sight, left completely in the hands of the doctors. He faced Stacker, the man's expression was unreadable.

"Stacker, what about him?" He dared to ask. "Is Chuck alright?"

"No," Stacker's expression, squinted eyes and the faintest glimmer of sympathy, drove home the single response quicker than the sound of his voice. "The buses weren't able to escape the Kaiju under the required hour. We're not sure what happened."

"Not sure?" Herc's tone slipped past his sense of control, booming within the space of the hangar. "How can you not be sure?"

Stacker's expression remained consistent. "I'm sorry, Herc."

_Sorry won't bring my son back._ Herc fell short of breath. He stepped away from the stalwart man. His knees buckled under his weight, he hunched over, pressing the palms of his hands against the space between his thigh and his knees. The world around him seemed to become twice his size, out of focus. He can hear voices behind him, maybe around him, but it doesn't matter. His son is dead.

Chuck is gone.

* * *

When Angela regained consciousness, her fingers instinctively curled around the hand holding hers. Her body systematically began moving as her senses become aware of the dull throb in her head.

Her eyes opened slightly, she can smell the colorless fragrance of the hospital as a hand caressed her cheek. "Angie," Herc's voice was hoarse. Angela eyes shift, the vague outline of her husband's upper body is all she can see.

Her head is fuzzy from the concussion and the drugs, but she falls back on the memory of his expression at her office building; she cannot stop thinking of Becky Rinehart. She raises her hand from off the bed, ignoring the IV sticking out of her arm and grasped his.

"Hercules," Angela doesn't recognize the sound of her own voice, but it elicits a sort of delirious laugh - or sob - from her husband. He presses a kiss to her bandaged forehead and squeezes her hand. "I thought I lost you," _Well, that's impossible, I'm lying right here,_ she thought as he continues to caress her face with his thumb. He comes in and out of focus, he's not wearing his pilot uniform anymore, just a worn gray t-shirt and jeans.

"How long have I been out?"

"Just a day," Herc breathed. "Doc's says you got a concussion, I should probably go get him." She heard the chair he was sitting in scrape against the floor, the hand that was still holding her was beginning to untangle itself from her fingers. Instinctively, Angela's hand gripped Herc's as hard as she could, the muscles in her arm tremble, her fingers fall loose but he reasserts his grip. Herc's face is clear enough that she realizes that his eyes are red and his five o'clock shadow is missing.

He moved closer to the bed, she felt her weight shift when he braced his hand beside her pillow on the right. "Hey, I'm not goin' far," He promised. Angela hardly concerns herself with his distance, she does her best to keep her tone steady when she asks, and "Is Chuck alright?"

The faint smile falls from his face, his lips become a thin line. His Adams apple bobs up and down, Herc can't rid himself of the ache that blooms in his chest when he looks at her. "Angela, they were- something happened after I left-"

"Tell me what happened," It wasn't request, it was an order. Her voice is sharp, deadly. She struggled sit upright, reactively she flinched when his hands touched her shoulders. Herc's expression gradually broke as she stared him down. "He didn't make it-"

She shook her head. "That's not true."

The heart monitor quickened in succession with her heartbeat.

"-The Kaiju, it killed him and everyone in the school before they could get out."

"No."

"I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't think-"

Angela felt as though the ground fell out beneath her. She stared at him, her mouth hanging open.

"Angela?" Herc felt her hand go lax in his grasp, his throat closed up when she started to convulse like she was trying not to scream. "Angie, Angela, look at me," Angela moved to rise from the bed, Herc wrapped one arm around her and waist held her back as he shouted for help. Angela Hansen's world collapsed in on her. Her mouth was open, but there was no sound. If she was screaming, it wasn't aloud and it was nowhere Herc could hear her.


	3. I lost my direction and I lost my home

**03: I lost my direction and I lost my home**

* * *

_Late September, 2014_

There's no place to go back home to. The immediate city is in ruins and their house was right on the outskirts of attack. There's no chance for closure, there's nothing left of their life or their son to bury.

They have nothing left but each other.

Stacker offers to take them both in until things are settled. She half expected Herc to take the offer wholeheartedly given their relationship, but he declines on the pretense she's never allowed to hear because he leans in close to relay it to the fellow pilot.

Angela feels out of place on the base. No one is particularly harsh or inconsiderate, but she can't stand the quiet, the pitying looks she gets from others whenever she wanders outside of the temporary housing she and her husband are bunking in. She's a ghost wandering the grounds and there are already stories about her. Herc is preoccupied with business, debriefing, whatever he called it. He makes it a point to be there when he can, but whether she consciously realized it or not, she wanted nothing to do with him.

Her mind is stuck in a loop; she's afraid of sleeping. She's always thinking of Becky, she's always wondering what was going through her son's mind when the Kaiju appeared and they weren't there to protect him. Sometimes she wakes up, there'll be tears on her face, but she never remembers crying.

He'll be there. He's always there, pulling her into his embrace. It's not the same, he feels like a completely different person, but he smells the same; gasoline, sweat and old spice. Herc is a constant; he'll always reassert that he's there for her even when she's fighting to get away from him.

Everything she stuffs down into herself she doesn't consciously throw back at him, but it's getting harder and harder to wake up to smooth walls and clean sheets and realize there won't be a little boy lying next to her or bouncing on the end of the mattress because she's still here. It's getting harder to convince herself that Herc isn't to blame for either situation.

* * *

_October 14, 2014_

She still cries in her sleep and he can't do anything to stop it. She doesn't pretend that it never happens, she just chooses not to discuss it with him. The first few times he heard her, he stumbled out of the bedroom adjacent from hers, crashing into the door he always forgot was shut.

His noisy attempts either woke her up or she remained trapped in whatever nightmare she created in her head. In other cases he was allowed some semblance of physical intimacy: The rhythm of her heart against his chest, her fingernails digging into this back. He took all of her in, greedily savoring every part of her person until he's too afraid to let her go.

Angela would hold onto him until there was nothing left to cry from her body. He counted the seconds down to the moment he felt her body stiffen and pull away from him. She never went far, all she had to do situate herself in the chair facing the window.

He rarely slept, so he worked, he worked on whatever he could get his hands on. He remained in motion, she remained stationary; they days moved just as slowly for both. The sun crawled into the sky, the clouds moved like molasses and the night lasted too long.

He probably wasn't wrong in the assumption that both wanted their world to end every waking hour, but got the sense that if she could, Angela would probably throw herself off the nearest building if she had half the chance.

And that scared him.

The next time he hears her crying the door isn't open for him. He pushes against the lock, jiggling the door handle almost to the point of panic. Her crying persisted, he pressed himself against the door and just listened.

The following morning he found himself lying on the floor and staring up at the door frame. Angela was kneeling and helping him sit upright before he can think to move on his own. "Are you hungry?" She asked in a completely normal voice. Herc doesn't know how to respond to the question, he stares down at how her fingers are poised on his skin and tries to get a look at her. Angela stands up, he catches himself before he falls and watches her move toward the kitchen. "I'll make us breakfast."

"No, wait-"

"It's fine, I need something to do," Angela interjects, disappearing behind the fridge door as it opens. Herc situated himself at the counter and watched her go through the motions of preparing eggs. Her hands are shaking, but she doesn't make a mess. Herc swallowed against the knot in his throat as he says, "Can we talk about last night?"

"You sure you don't want apple juice?" Her hair falls over her shoulders, masking her expression as she turns away to grab something off the shelf. Herc felt his brow wrinkle and his mind trip over the response given. "Angela, I never said anything about apple juice," He said.

"I'm pretty sure you did," Angela responded distractedly. "I'm sure there's some in the fridge. Could you check please?"

"Angela-"

She drops the pan on the stove, her expression becomes hard at the same time a bitter smile graces her lips. "Nevermind, I'll check."

Herc is left flabbergasted by the reaction.

* * *

"She won't talk to me, Stacker. She's shut me out."

"What do you expect me to do about it? I'm not your marriage counselor, Herc."

"She sits there in that room, staring out the window all day," Herc continued. "And then she makes breakfast, lunch or dinner, whichever she can get up to make herself and goes back into that room."

"Herc, I didn't tell you to tell your wife about your son the moment she woke up."

"What was I supposed to do? She asked. I couldn't lie to her. Did they lie to you about your sister when she died?"

"No, they never got the chance. Tam told me over the phone," Stacker answered, taking a swig of his drink. "I had a good cry and then I had to keep goin' because I was needed. Angela, she doesn't have the problem of being needed."

Herc bit the edge of his tongue. "I need her, Stacker. I am supposed let her rot in that room?"

"No. What I meant was, she isn't responsible for anything on a global scale. She's a civilian," Stacker amended. "I can recognize what you're both going through, Herc, but it's not my place tell you what to do. You sort it out with her and you do it quick if it's going to affect how you're able to work."

* * *

Herc entered the house to the sound of drawers slamming shut. The living room was a complete mess; dossiers were thrown about, boxes of things they had yet to unpack were torn open. Thinking the worse he ran through the living room and made a b-line for Angela's bedroom. Instead of a burglar he found himself staring at his wife, pacing around the room, hands tangled in her hair as she tried to control her tears. "Angie, what happened?" He asked, stepping across the threshold.

"I can't find it," She breathed.

"Can't find what?" Herc inquired, unsure if she was even talking sense.

"The picture of us and-," She stops with a shake of her head. "Before I left the office, I took a picture from off my desk. It was his eighth birthday, remember?" Herc remembered. Chuck was still getting over a gnarly cold when they took the picture. At that point they were both exhibiting the same sniffly symptoms as their son, but Chuck couldn't have been happier sandwiched between his parents with the biggest piece of cake and a bowl ice cream ever. In the midst of his own personal breakdown, he only vaguely remembered the doctors asking if he wanted to keep any of her personal affects.

They included her wedding ring and the picture they found stuck in her bra. Herc took them without so much as thinking, stuffing them into his pockets. He hadn't thought of them until now. He reached into his back pocket, pulling his wallet out he looked inside.

The picture was still there, pressed against his personal ID next to the wedding band. He took both from his wallet and extended his hand to her. It was the first time in weeks since she looked at him with something other than resignation, actually looked him in the eye. She took it from his hand and stared down at the wrinkled photograph.

For a moment it looks as though she's going to cry and he's prepared to take her into his arms. Instead her face straightens and runs one hand across her face to rid it of tears. Angela becomes a different person in a matter seconds; the steely gaze from before returns, she takes her wedding ring without question and slips it back onto her finger. "I thought I lost it," She said. "It's- the only thing I have of him and it's not even recent." Herc's fingers found his way around hers, he felt a tremor run down her arm.

* * *

_November 7, 2014_

It wasn't a game of checks and balances, nor was there a decision of pros and cons. He reacted, plain and simple. Ran out into the open as the sirens roared and they were ordered to their stations. He jumped onto the first helicopter out into the city. There were traffic jams for miles, people hoofing it out of the city, swarming over the sidewalks. That thing was a fair distance from where they were, but from the air the miles of city between it, Angela's office building and Chuck's school hardly seemed like a deterrent.

He thought he would have more time. He didn't count on reaching the top floor and finding her cubical empty, he didn't count fighting against a stampeding crowd just to get to the lower level.

By the time he found her, he couldn't think of anything except getting her out of the building. So an innocent girl died because there was no time, and in a way, his wife never got out of the building intact.

Light, lovely and affirmative; the sparks and the bite of a firecracker in the dark. That was Angela. Every cliché in the book could be used to describe how happy they made each other, all in spite of the imperfections of their life. The sight of her covered with blood, it didn't mesh with what he associated her with, but it embodied everything she'd become. Now, she was hollowed out. There was a dead girl hanging on her conscience, and she never said it, but undoubtedly blamed him for not being able to save their son.

He had hit a wall and he couldn't get past it, not even when they were so close that their bodies seemed to meld into one. His lips pressed against the base of her throat, her legs around his waist. Sex is desperate, passionless. A series of practiced movements that don't mean anything at all when there's nothing to give back. And at the end of it all she cries because the last time he was this close to her, they had a son.

Her name is mantra tied to the anchor of requests. Angela, wait, Angela, please, Angela, don't._ Angela, Angela, Angela._

* * *

_December 7, 2014_

He found her sitting on the bed, book turned on its face and a knee cradled against her chest. She stared out into space, contemplating her own fate most likely. Herc knocked lightly on the doorframe. She jumped, immediately putting on a smile when she realizes it's him. "Hercules," She greeted, tucking her hair behind ears.

"Can I come in?" He asked out of cursory respect. Angela nodded. He stepped over the threshold and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Their bodies adjust according to their proximity, Angela pulls her other leg up against her chest, Herc rests the back of his foot on the frame of the box spring, forcing him to push himself further back on the bed. She watched his expression switch, his fingers tapping nervously against his kneecap. "Angela, we need to talk."

"What about? The military kicking us out already?"

"Uh, no, it's not about the housing, its-" Herc sighed, biting the inside of his mouth. "There really isn't any easy way of saying this, so I'll just say it."

"Say what?"

"It's been three months. I wanna talk about him-"

She shook her head. "No."

"-I want us to talk about Chuck."

Angela's body fell perfectly still, her pupils dilated as she started to stare blankly ahead. "I said no."

"Angela, please."

"What is there talk about, Hercules?" She snapped, eyes narrowed. "What is it that you want to hear?"

"You can tell me anything, I don't care. Anything except silence, you crying yourself to sleep," He responded. "You don't to talk to me anymore and I can't stand it."

Her expression became suspicious. "You don't want hear just anything," Angela remarked, climbing off the bed.

"I do."

"No, no, you don't. You want me to tell you it's not your fault our son died. You want me to forgive you, but I can't," Angela said. Herc followed her over to the window, not giving her the chance put any real distance between them. Angela situated herself on the other side of the chair in front of the window, Herc stood across from her, hand gripping the top of the chair.

"Why can't you forgive me?"

He's waiting for her to say the words, but she merely opts to say, "I can't."

"Bull. You said it yourself, you can't forgive me," Herc repeated. "Why can't you?"

She didn't respond.

"You don't think I regret the fact that I couldn't save him? You're not the only person in this that lost a son," Herc snapped. "I love- loved Chuck-"

"Stop saying his name."

The chair was on the floor before he realized what happened. "I'm his father! I have every right," Herc shouted.

Angela stepped over the chair and shoved him. Herc stumbled back into the dresser behind him, his footing lost he braced himself against frame. "If you were any kind of father you would've saved him instead of me," She roared, slapping him on the arm. "He was just a child, he didn't deserve that!"

Herc's emotions spiraled out of control. Every muscle in his body wanted to react, retaliate, but he ordered himself to remain still. He watched as Angela began to pace, fingers pressed into her palms. "It was the Kaiju, there was nothing I could-"

"It might as well have been both of you!" She cried. "I shouldn't be here, he should be here!"

"Do you think he'd be any happier than you are right now if I'd saved him instead of you?"

"Are you really talking hypotheticals right now? My son is dead and you could've done something to stop it. I could've saved that girl, and you stopped me."

"There wasn't time. We would've died in that building if we tried to get her out of there with us."

"Well, it doesn't matter now, does it? I left her behind and Ch- he-"

"Chuck," Herc interjected, pushing away from the dresser. "His name was Charles. You gave him your middle name-"

"I don't care why I named him. He still died," Angela gasped, holding a hand to her chest. "Are you happy now? Are glad all of this is out in the open?"

"No."

"I didn't think so," She wandered back over to the bed and sat on the edge. Herc moved away from the dresser, he kneeled in front of his wife. Angela kept her head down, her chest heaved in sequence with her hiccups. She flinched when his hand grasped hers. "I hate you," Angela whispered. "I hate you."

"You don't mean that, Angie," He replied. "You're hurting, we both are."

"I hate you," She repeated, this time more forcefully.

"No, you don't." Their eyes meet, Herc wasn't so remiss to admit that she was telling him the truth, but he needed to think otherwise. For his sake.

* * *

_January 1__st, _2015

"Where'd she go?"

The house was empty when he comes back from Brisbane. There wasn't much to pack and he doubted anyone of significance actually tried to stop her.

"Who?"

"My wife, you idiot; Angela Hansen."

Stacker was off in Kodiak, doing God-knows-what with the United Nations, he just left from visiting his brother after she asked for space.

"That skinny little bird? She's left 'bout half hour ago, packed her bags and everything."

"What?"

No one seemed to know where she went, and he didn't think to check the answering machine until he's spent ten minutes searching in circles.

"Listen, I know this is sudden, but I needed to get away. I can't stay in that room anymore and as much as you tell me otherwise, I don't think I'm wanted on base. I'm a distraction, at least as far as your job is concerned. Look, don't worry about me. My sister and I decided stay at with our uncle in Melbourne. We're taking Marge's car. We'll be fine. Take care of yourself, do your job, don't let anyone else down. …I've gotta go, bye."

Breaking the speed limit wasn't a conscious choice in the matter. If she intended on leaving by car, he had at least the advantage of checkpoints to slow her down. He couldn't hear anything except his own breath as he made his way through traffic.

* * *

Margret Hansberry was never one judging a book by its cover. When her sister called, in tears, she didn't think to ask why. It was all over the news, but she didn't expect find her standing at her door with a bag, no son and no husband.

The whole sorted story made her ill and with only one perspective to work off of, it was hard not to assume the worse of Herc Hansen despite knowing better. He loved Chuck, they both did; there wasn't anything that they wouldn't do for him come hell or high water. Yet the decision he made, the "what ifs" that would drive her sister crazy, it created a space large enough for doubt to live in. It was their parent's belief that children were a labor of love and as such, they placed above the spouse and anything that threatened their livelihood.

Herc's choice, however it was made, it defied everything either of them were raised to believe. Compounded with the terrible reality of survivor's guilt and creatures far too impossible to comprehend, Angela was lost in a crisis.

And things were made worse when Herc managed to find them an hour before leaving her house. The almost guilty look her sister's face let her know the how, she just didn't get the why. He jumped out of his car and moved with a purpose and ferocity that put her on edge. Despite her status as the younger of the two, Margret found herself pushing her sister behind her and pulling out her can of pepper spray.

"Angela-"

"Stop," Margret raised her arm so that it acted as a barrier between Herc and her sister. "I'll use it and scream bloody murder in the process."

"You wouldn't," Herc said, unconvinced.

"Try me, soldier boy, I mean it," Margret said, shaking the bottle.

"I'm not going to hurt her, Margret," Herc shot back, choosing to regard his wife. "Angela, tell her I'm not gonna hurt you."

"He's not gonna hurt me, Marge," She placed a hand on her sister's shoulder, her left hand tight around her bag strap. He walked forward, Margret stood her ground.

"Why are you doing this? You don't have to leave," He told her. "I know- I know things have been shit, but-"

"Hercules, I just need some time to myself, I need to get away," Angela responded.

"From me?"

"…Yes," Angela responded with a nod. "Just please let me go. I don't want to be here anymore."

"We can go someplace else," Herc offered.

"She'll be fine with us, Herc," Margret interjected. "Let us get in the car and you go do your job. Go help people." Herc kept his gaze focused on Angela; she never stepped out from behind her sister and she never returned his gaze.

Margret kept her pepper spray out as she urged her sister toward the car, occasionally throwing a glance over her shoulder. She had no stake in the blame game, but her responsibility lay with her sister and Angela was a mess.

* * *

_January 3__D, _2015

He saved her just so he could lose her. Inside a house without many personal affects, he can't even call the space she lived in hers, yet he finds himself lying in empty bed, face against the mattress.

He can't reasonably hit anyone so he takes it out on the furniture until his commanding officer threatens to court marital him for abusing property he didn't pay for. Scott seems to appear out of the ether, willed to the base by his distress.

In reality, he was looking for someplace lie low until a pair fellas got bored of looking for him. It was the worst plan, considering he could be arrested if anyone found about what he was doing, but Herc humored him. If someone came around looking to harm his brother, they would be leaving with more broken limbs than their hospital bills could handle.

Scott and Angela never got along. He spent the better part of his marriage playing mediator, defending his brother against Angela's apprehensive accusations until Scott's behavior could no longer be dismissed as harmless. It couldn't, not when there was Chuck to think about.

Sitting on the floor, surrounded by empty bottles, things he fought to keep shoved in the back of his mind came spilling from his mouth. He'd give anything to fall to pieces, crawl into a hole and never come out. But everything in his body fought against that impulse. Reinforced by his military training, it was almost impossible to let himself go completely. Herc was still needed, he needed to be "strong" because if he fell apart, what did that mean for the rest of the world?

"Look on the bright side," Scott slurred to him.

"There's a bright side to my wife leaving me?" Herc half hiccuped, half sobbed.

"You've still got me."

Herc stared at his brother in disbelief, sure that he was joking. Scott was never serious, but the look on his rosy complexion and glassy eye might've been telling him the not-so-subtle truth. Even if his Angela was gone, he still had a family. Herc ruffled his little brother's hair and knocked his head against the wall.

* * *

_February 5__TH, _2015

The first anniversary of second Kaiju attack; Margret makes it a point to keep her sister entertained and away from the televisions, but the world around them is changing rapidly. Graffiti and worshipers of the Kaiju are emerging quicker than either sister would like to think possible. The world barely had a sense of defending itself and already you had people who praised these creatures and wished for humanity's speedy end. As far as these people were concerned, mankind was getting its just deserts for the abuses to their fellow man and the environment.

Was it just deserts that Chuck died because of a few bad apples? Was he just a causality in some twisted God's vengeance against his or her creations? The thought made her ill, and just like the last time she found herself lying in a bed and trying to hide her head under the covers. "Sweetie, you can't keep doin' this," Margret told her, rubbing circles around her back. "We left that stud you call a husband because of this."

"I know, I know I did," She breathed. "I just don't know what to do. Everything reminds me Chas. It was worse with Herc, but it's no better here."

"One day at time, sweetheart, we'll get there," Margret reassured. "Just don't drive yourself crazy."

"Please don't patronize me, Marge," Angela said. "Nothing will ever be okay."

* * *

_February 18__TH, _2015

Her birthday almost went by without incident or celebration. She moved through day without spending over an hour inside her bedroom. She ate more than apple, Margret that was adamant that she watch her eat her waffles even at the risk of running late for the relief work she was assisting. Angela practiced smiling in the mirror until it hurt her face, and when no one was watching, she turned the television on.

Sydney was still a disaster zone, causality numbers were rising, but they never said a thing about Herc. Climbing the stairs to her bedroom, Angela expected to go to bed without incident. Instead she found an bulldog curled up on the end of her bed, a bow wrapped around his collar.

For a moment she thought she'd walked into the wrong room, but her shoes were lying next to the desk across from the bed. The dog sat up, finally taking notice of her. His mouth fell open in sloppy appreciation, drool leaking from the edge of his mouth. He reminded her of Cousin Max; smelly and looking to be adored by all. He dropped down on the floor and trotted over to her, she keeled in front of him and he studied her, almost as if asking if she was his friend (or owner). "Hi, Max," She greeted him, scratching behind his ears.

* * *

_April 23__TH, _2015

"Karloff" fell and the whole world watched. Margret affixed herself next to her sister, Max sat between them. They watched as the hulking machine landed a punch that seemed to knock the creature's head from its shoulders and topple it.

They'd beaten a Kaiju. It was dead. Angela felt her heart skip and eyes widen when one of the pilots removed their helmet and revealed a mousy haired woman wearing glasses. She stood next a significantly taller man, but he didn't matter. She felt Margret's arm tighten around hers and head rest against her shoulder. "What are you thinking, Angie?" The concern in her voice is evident. "Angela?"

Angela keeps her eyes on the woman, the wheels in her mind clicking like lighter attempting to spark a fire.

* * *

Stacker was the first to approach him about joining the Jaeger Program. He hadn't seen the man in ages, but he looked no worse for wear. Scott was strangely on his best behavior when Pentecost entered the house, preoccupied with dumping the empty bottles of beer they never bothered to discard.

There was a trace of concern in Stacker's face when he regards him, Herc can only hope he doesn't look completely shitfaced. Scott situates himself at the dinner table as Stacker sets a thick manila folder on the table. Both Hansens have seen the news footage from Vancouver and neither of them is quite over the absurdity that became a walking reality that killed a Kaiju with minimal damage to the city or populace.

The first thing Herc thinks is _where were these things when my son needed them?_ One look at that oddly shaped humanoid machine and he already knew Chuck would love it. It's bitter and unreasonable, but he doesn't much care that's he's looking at their situation retrospectively. "We're looking for anyone willing to try. The choice is yours gentlemen," Stacker's voice shakes him free from his internal crisis. "Read the documents, read them carefully. I'll be in Kodiak."

Scott snatches the folder off the table opens it. Neither brother is quite prepared for the amount of information that bombards them all at once.

* * *

_May 4__TH, _2015

Margret chooses not to go with her. Not because she doesn't believe in the program, but because she doesn't believe she has it in her to fight like they need her to. Angela doesn't think it hurts to try, but her sister's mind is made up. Neither of them are soldiers. By all rights Angela shouldn't even attempt to become a "Ranger" or whatever they were calling the prospective pilots for the Jaeger. "No one is born a soldier, Marge," She told her sister. "Everyone starts somewhere, and this is just one part of it."

"Yeah, because that worked out so well for your husband," It was a low blow, but Angela let it slide, knowing full well what her sister meant. If Angela put herself in position where she was beholden and responsible for the lives of others, then she would be equally as guilty for the deaths of those she couldn't prevent. Just like Herc. Angela saw her point, but the damage was done with Becky Rinehart.

Margret saw her off at the airport, she kept her hands in her jacket pockets, afraid of what she would do if her sister gave her the chance to hug her. "Call me, don't be a stranger," Margret calls as Angela passes through the checkpoint. Preoccupied with boarding the plane, Angela can only nod her head as she disappears.

* * *

"…If it seems like we're trying to break you, it's because we are."

The program is brutal and by herself, Angela finds herself thinking the bruises and the ice baths aren't worth the sleepless nights that continue to plague her. She attempts memorize every aspect of the Kwoon's training schedule, everything someone might need to know about a Jaeger, but she still feels largely inadequate, almost afraid. The Jaegers sit one flow below them, being constructed as she thought.

Could she really pilot one of those things?

She bounces from one partner to another in her class. Angela's not the only person who enlisted without a sibling, lover or best friend, but it makes her difficult to reign into one place because she's not compatible with every person she trains with. That's fine, but it frustrates her teachers.

Max is her only real solid company before she meets Kaori Jessop. The bulldog is content to follow her any and everywhere, must to the displeasure of some of her mates, who don't appreciate a male dog in the ladies laboratory. Kaori, however, is too enamored with Max's roly-poly softness to be offended by the idea of a male dog in the bathroom. Angela is hesitant to say anything, unsure if Kaori speaks any English.

"Where did you find him?" She asks.

"He was a gift for my birthday," Angela answered. "His name is Max."

Kaori smiled. "I had a Labrador when I was child," She recounted distractedly, appraising the gold band hanging next to Max's name tag. Rising from the floor she extends her hand to Angela. "Kaori Jessop."

Angela shook her hand. "Angela Han- Hansen…" If Kaori noticed her hesitation she chose not to acknowledge it. "Nice to meet you, Angela. Do you have a partner?"

"No, not at the moment, unfortunately," Angela responded. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Kaori flashed her something of a dreamy smile. "My husband, Duc."

Angela reframed from saying anything, the irony of her situation biting just a little too close to home.

* * *

_May 11__TH__, 2015_ -

"You didn't tell me the missus was here too, mate," At this point, Herc should've known better than to listen to his brother's mouth when they're training. Anything that's not his sound of his heart, his feet sliding across the mat or the swing of his stick, it was going to slip him up. Scott was an expert in fouling him up.

He practically existed to ensure his efforts in perfection were foiled. Against his better judgment, Herc turned toward the space Scott was pointing toward and felt his heart stop. Angela was situated at the end of the Kwoon, legs crossed and shoulder to shoulder with another woman of a similar build. It'd been ages since he'd seen any part of her body uncovered. She looked great-

He earned a tap on the head with the hanbō. Herc shot his brother a glare, Scott backed away with the staff behind him. "Go talk to her, I'll wait."

"She doesn't want to talk to me," Herc reminded him.

"You never know, maybe she's over it," The older Hansen thought Scott and all his infinite lack of sensitivity needed a good slap. "I'm not over it," He snapped. "What makes you think she is?"

Scott shrugged his shoulders, not really caring. "Either way, I need a break from kicking your ass and you look like you could rattle her cage," Scott gave his brother a two finger salute and headed over to the bench. _Scott, you arsehole._ Herc stood in the middle of the floor, hanbō staff in hand. Angela didn't seem to notice he was in the room. Her attention was completely on her teammate.

"Just go over there and talk to her, no problem," He uttered to himself placing one foot in front of the other. He crossed the mat without trouble, most groups weren't paying attention to him. Angela glanced away from her friend. Her bright expression fell immediately, replaced with complete surprise. It would seem neither of them were expecting to see each other in the same place any time soon. Both women sat upright, their posture revealing their muscles. "Hercules Hansen," Angela smiled thinly. "Of all the people to run into on an island, I wasn't expecting you."

"Is he your ex?" Herc flinched at the terminology, his eyes switch to Angela. His wife shook her head. "No, he's still my husband," She reaffirmed, looking away from him. "Hercules, this is Kaori Jessop. She's a friend." Herc extended his hand to Kaori, the young woman smiled, accepting his hand with a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you, Kaori, I've heard absolutely nothing about you," He joked.

"Likewise, Hercules," Kaori responded.

"Just call me Herc, all my friends do."

Kaori nodded her head to friend. "She doesn't." Her words spoke volumes, Herc kept his eyes steady on Angela, but she wouldn't look back. Allowing Kaori's hand to fall from his he cleared his throat. "Uh, Kaori, do you mind if I steal your partner for a second? It's important," He said.

Kaori stood up without question, Angela reacted, her eyes widened and she reached out to stop her. Kaori raised her hands in mock-surrender. "I know a lover's spat when I see one. Let me know when you're done, okay? I think I hear Duc calling me," Kaori bounced off before Angela could protest any further without words.

Kaori exited the Kwoon quicker than she'd seen her move in weeks. Herc remained stationary in front of her, staff hanging idle at his side. He watched her rise from the ground, the muscles in her jaw shift as she tries to maintain control of her expression. "Well, what is it, Hercules?"

"I don't see you for five months and you show up here," Herc stated. "A little warning would've been nice."

"Last I check, you aren't my father, Hercules."

"Why didn't tell me you joined the program?"

"I'm surprised, Stacker didn't tell you?" She mocked. "He probably tells you everything-"

"Which is the opposite of what you're doing now," Herc grabbed her by the arm, instinctively using his size to try and intimidate her. He felt the air on her arm stand upright. "You don't belong here," He said as Angela pulled her arm out of his grip

"You don't get to tell me where I belong, Hercules Hansen," She practically snarled, chest heaving. "You don't get to touch me, either."

"Do you even know what it is you signed up for? Eh?" He asked. "This isn't a game, and it's not someplace you can carry around a vendetta."

"I know exactly what I'm doing and all that it entails," Angela replied. "If I didn't I wouldn't be here getting lectured by you, you bastard."

She moved to leave, Herc stepped into her path. "Angela, you don't have to do this. You're not a soldier, you don't have to fight."

"Neither is your sodding brother, or half the people in this room, but I don't see you lecturing them on the matter," Angela grabbed her bag off the floor. "I'm not some waify flowerchild with a golden halo on my head, I am a person. So you'll forgive me if I'm not sorry for shattering any preconceived notions of my innocence." She pushed past him, shouldering her bag with more force than she needed to. "And that line you fed me, about this not being a game? It works both ways, Hercules. You sure you're not here because of some vendetta?"

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you," She called over her shoulder. From behind Herc could hear his brother chuckling.

"She's got a point," Scott sauntered over to his brother, stick dragging across the floor. "Why are you here?"

"I reckon I could ask you the same question," Herc deflected. Scott shrugged his shoulders. "Answering a question with a question, just like you. I'm here because you're here. I figure between the three of us, there's just enough motivation from a single kid we all gave a damn about to power a small army. She just might have more motivation to jump into the nuclear powered machine than most of us, though."

"She shouldn't have to," Herc argued.

"Yeah, but that's the thing," Scott tapped Herc's staff with his own. "That's not your choice, it's hers."

* * *

_June 5, 2015_

The first time Herc meets Max, the dog is scampering out of his room, making off with one of his boots. His steel toed boot.

For all of Scott's talk about being sharp of the eye, he was asleep when it mattered the most.

Herc disregarded all thoughts of looking like a fool and chased the slovenly beast down the halls. For something so heavy in appearance, it could move as fast a dog with a fit physique. Max led him all the way into the mess hall, exactly where he didn't want to be.

The dog trotted casually over to the bench on the far left end of the dining table and shimmies under the bench with the boot. Herc's gait is awkward as he approaches the culprit's master, his height complicating the added inches by the other boot.

"Hey, ya mug, what've you got there?" She leaned forward, sticking her hand under the table to wrestle the object from Max's hungry maw.

"He's got my boot, and if the mutt knows what's good for him, he'll give it back," Herc asserted

Angela turned as she pulled the boot from Max's mouth. "Here, don't lose your mind," She remarked, seemingly not surprised to see him. And why would she be? They've been avoiding each other like the plague with disturbing ease. Herc stared down at her fingers. They were resting directly on the slobbery parts of his boot. Her left hand was bare. Herc removed the boot from her grasp, he dropped it on the floor and attempted to slip his foot into the spineless opening. "What happened to your ring?"

Angela's brow wrinkled, perplexed. Herc tapped his right hand where his wedding ring rested. "Oh, I lost it… in customs. I put it in my bag and airport lost it," She answered, I'm still waiting to hear back from 'em."

"When were you gonna tell me about it?" Herc asked, unable to hide the suspicion in his tone.

"Naturally, when I found it," Angela answered shortly, placing her hand atop Max's head when he jumped onto the bench next to her. "So we could avoid this conversation and the part where you accuse me of being unfaithful or something ludicrous like that."

_Would it be so ludicrous at this point?_ He wondered. In the time they've spent apart, neither bothered to contact each other. His eyes never wandered and he assumed hers never did, but she was adamant that he keep his distance. For all intents and purposes, they might as well have been separated, legally and emotionally. Herc finally found his footing inside the boot, he felt his throat tighten as she turned her back to him again. "Look, I'll make sure Max stays out of your room, okay?" She said. "He likes boots, he steals from everybody."

"When did you get a dog, anyways?" Herc moved to lean against the table on her left side. Max looked up over her arm and eyed him suspiciously with those seemingly vacant marbles, flashing his teeth until Angela patted him on the head.

"Behave, Max," She chided. "I got him for my birthday, Marge gave him to me."

"Nice of her."

"I thought so. By the way, thanks for not sending a card."

The man on his left shifted uncomfortably, Herc rolled his tongue in his mouth as she looked at him, waiting for a response. Was she trying to goad him into a fight? "You didn't want to be bothered, so I didn't bother you," Herc scoffed at her offense.

"Fine," She resumed patting Max on the head. "Keep up the good work."

"Sure thing," Herc pushed away from the table and walked out of the mess hall.

She had some nerve.

* * *

**Notes:**

*Angela's middle name is "Chas"; the story is that her father wanted boys, but got two girls instead. Her mother named her Chas just to bug her husband. Angela referred to Chuck/Charles as Chas because she thinks her middle name should be put to use outside of antagonizing her father and its a default nickname.  
*Max is wearing Angela's wedding ring on his collar; she doesn't want to get wear it, but she doesn't want to lose it.  
*It's neigh impossible to insult someone who's name is "Hercules Hansen" (seriously), so she just calls him "Hercules" instead of "Herc" because it sounds awkward coming from her and Herc knows it.  
*Herc's behavior may have been inadvertently influenced by Mack Gerhardt from The Unit. I don't like this character, but then I don't like half of Max Martini's characters in procedural/whatever dramas because he's always playing a creep (albeit a convincing creep) who needs to be shot (with the exception of maybe Lie to Me).

* * *

**Author's Note:** This was a rather difficult chapter to write, mostly because it was hard trying to maintain grief in a headspace that automatically shuts itself down at the mere thought of loss. Thank God for _Buffy_ and JMSN ("Priscilla"). The final chapter is focused primarily on events in the film… amended to deal with the idea of re-learning to trust someone you blame for the death of your child as a co-pilot. I think Angela could be cross with Raleigh's hiatus, but I don't believe she'd pick a fist fight with him and stoop as so low as to call him or Mako "bitches", considering her gender.


	4. You treat me like a stranger

**04: You treat me like a Stranger and that hurts so much (1)**

* * *

_June 22d, 2015_

"It's my understanding that they lost a child?" Caitlin Lightcap thumbed through the folder on her desk.

"Yes, a little over a year ago in Sydney."

"Why is she here? From the looks of the evaluations, she's not even had time to grieve. She's taking it out on most of the class which rather against the point of your "Jaeger Bushido"."

"You can grieve for the rest of your life, Miss Lightcap. The problem is focusing that grief into something more productive."

"Duly noted, and I don't mean to presume how to tell someone to grieve, Marshall, but most of her handshakes- they're erratic at best. Not exactly weak, but they could be stronger."

"Perhaps you can help her in that matter."

"How?"

"Find someone who knows how to take a punch."

* * *

Angela's first steady partner is a woman named Miranda "Hardlock" Kauffman, a MMA Bantamweight. One look at her on the Kwoon mat and Angela felt criminally under qualified for just about everything the Academy was training her for. Preconceived notions were quick to reinforce the idea that woman of her stature was intimidating, someone to be scared of.

The origin of the nickname baffled her, at least until she ended up in a headlock she couldn't break out of and passed out. Miranda was disciplined for that, but Pentecost seemed content that they were "getting along" so well.

Outside of the headlock incident, Kauffman was a reasonably mild-mannered and charming woman. No less dedicated than Angela to what she committed to in the Academy.

They're not puzzles to each other, Miranda's empathy is derived not from pity or obligation, but understanding. They respected each other boundaries, never pried further than they needed to if they approach a particular conversation. Drifting didn't get any easier, it was often hard to tell where her ill-begotten feelings began and Miranda's ended. Angela was still too used to the idea of a single identity, the thought of sharing a headspace with anyone was fairly daunting despite her willingness to apply to the program.

Their personalities bleed into each other, but it's probably the first time Angela doesn't mind feeling like someone else.

* * *

_August 14, 2015 –_

Herc is hyper-aware of every date that passes. Every fiber of his being seems hardwired to remember how many days past from any particular event - nationally celebrated or otherwise noted.

Angela chooses to forget the dates and the months; every day is another day, a series of actions and movements dedicated to memorizing educational rhetoric required to do her job. The world around her frozen, mannequins surround her until enters the Jaeger facility, classes and Pentecost, the latter being the oddest part.

Once upon a time she might've taken the joke that she was jealous of his friendship with her husband, now, it was hard to look the man she felt was equally responsible for her situation. Herc's continued loyalty baffled her, but she knew well enough of the allegiance shared by soldiers that it would be a pointless endeavor to try and challenge it.

* * *

When Herc wakes up on the fourteenth feeling sore, he's lying in an odd angle, as though he were bracing himself for a hit. Instead he remembers Max is sleeping beside him, taking up half the bed space. He doesn't remember when the dog started scratching at his door, only that he'd done it long enough that he let him inside the room just to get him to be quiet. Angela certainly wasn't going to open her door for him once she stared through that peep hole. Max commandeered his bed, not really caring if Herc objected to it.

Scott was the first to jump out of bed, there's a cigarette in his mouth already, but he can't find the lighter. "Big man's birthday t'day," He spoke past the cigarette. Herc pulled his face out from behind his arm and sighs.

"I know," Herc drags his hands across his face. "He'd be twelve today, I think."

"You gonna talk to her?"

"No, no, I'm not."

"Oh, c'mon, I think she'll be squishy enough that she'll let a hug or two past, yeah?"

Herc's eyes caught his brother's as he discovered the lighter. "You've no idea what you're talking about, Scott."

"Probably not," He removed the cigarette from his mouth, exhaling as he did. "I just hate what she's done to you, man."

Herc sat upright, his muscles relaxed only slightly. "What has she done me, exactly, Scott?"

"Are you serious? She blames you for what happened, and you take it. You take it because you don't wanna come off looking like her old man if you fight back."

Herc shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not her old man, she knows that."

"She doesn't act like it."

"Look, she's not afraid of me, she's upset with me. Maybe I deserve it."

"Now that's just guilt talking, mate," Scott inhaled, the end of the cigarette burned. "I understand she's hurt, but her pain doesn't outweigh yours."

"Scott, what kind of father leaves their son to die just save his wife?"

"Oh, well, there's God," The diplomatic answer he thinks. He regrets the words once they fall off the tip of his tongue. Herc looks like he wants to punch him. "I'm not—I'm even sure why we're having this conversation," Herc rose from the bed and stumbled into the bathroom, Max trotting behind him. Scott shrugged himself; his attempts his come off as some enlightened creature always fell flat on their arse.

"Put that thing out."

Scott chokes on the smoke curling in his mouth in mid-exhale; he puts the cigarette out on the desk.

Herc intends on avoiding Angela for the remainder of the day. His plan works, she's chosen to leave the Academy for a drink and ladies "night" out with Miranda and Kaori.

* * *

_December 6, 2015 –_

Angela does her best to keep her sister up to date with her progress in the Academy with e-mails or old fashioned letters. Margret returns the show of appreciation by sending her little things from home. She doesn't to think to open them, afraid of what she might find inside.

If Margret asked if she liked her present, Angela was quick to reply with "yes, thank you", "very thoughtful of you", or "hope you're good (smiley face)" somewhere in her letter.

Angela knew her sister would figure it out eventually, but for now she could keep playing possum.

When she meets Duc, it's the early in the end of the year and Kaori has been assigned to Tacit Ronin. Angela reframes from acting as though she's been reunited with an old relative when she finds out part of his parentage lies in Australia, tries not tease him when chooses to keep his lips sealed about the cowboy hat sitting on head. Kaori lights up around him, even though her exasperation over his bad jokes diminishes her overt affections. The Jaeger stands tall within the facility adjacent to the academy, its hull unspoiled by battle. It's hard to think of the machine as beautiful, considering its purpose, but the thought crosses all three minds.

They stand on the scaffolding across from the Mark-1, Angela sandwiched between the two Jessop's. "How do you think it'll walk on those heel feet?" Duc asked, more to himself than anyone next to him. "Doesn't even look like it'll hold its own weight." Angela and Kaori apprised the long angular feet of Tacit Ronin. The Jaeger was suspended just a few feet off the ground, supported by thick cables as its crew continued working on its armor. "I'm sure they'll hold our weight fine. I mean, Brawler Yukon isn't exactly a picture of balance," Kaori answered her husband. "Angie, have you found out which one you've been assigned to?"

"They won't say, but I think it's the one after Romeo Blue. Tango Tasmania," Angela answered.

"That brute?"

"I like the design," Duc added. When Angela smiled Kaori made a face. "It's headed for Auckland, you know that, right?"

"I know," Angela responded. "It's why Miranda and I requested the assignment. We probably won't get it, but it doesn't hurt to ask."

"Feel like stretching your legs a bit?"

"Yeah. Kodiak is the only place I've been to in America, maybe someplace close to home won't be such a bad next trip, yeah?" Angela bumped her shoulder. "I mean, what am I gonna when my friend leaves for Japan?"

* * *

_December 8th, 2015 –_

She missed Max. She only saw him every morning and every night, where he went when she fell asleep or got up and fell into her routine she didn't know. He hardly seemed bothered by the fact that Angela was preoccupied with herself. And when he did, he stole boots, most of which he didn't return. Everyone in the academy blamed her for it, but she was hardly responsible for Max's bad habits.

She didn't think so, anyway.

"What did you use to do for fun? I mean, before the Kaiju, I mean?" Kaori inquired, stealing a French fry from her plate.

"I used to surf," Angela responded distractedly, eyes wandering the expanse of the mess hall. She spotted Scott a few seconds ago. His brother couldn't have been far.

"No kidding? Were you any good?"

"I entered a few competitions when I was younger, got a bronze medal in one of them," She recounted somewhat nostalgically. Miranda and Kaori nodded simultaneously, eyebrows raised in appreciation of this new found skill. Kaori leaned in closer at the same as Miranda, fry hanging limp in her hand. "How's the water?"

"They're still trying to get that blue blood shit out of it," Miranda said. Angela wasn't surprised; the number of Kaiju killed tallied up so far numbered over six, but the amount of damage left behind by their bodies was still considerable. Water had to be purified in cities before it was actually allowed to be used in plumbing, even there was still a chance of contamination. Cities were closed down for airborne contamination in the immediate area. Most beaches were closed on principle. Cities resorted to using bottled water, stored what they had and rationed in light of their diminishing circumstances. "Anything else?"

"No, surfing was an end all be all for me, then I had Chuck and I couldn't get out as much," Her brow creased. The three of them turned to respond to the low whistle that beckoned behind them. Scott Hansen stood behind them with a tray in his hand, typical smile on his face. "Angie, you didn't tell me your partners were so pretty… and defined," He added when he noticed Miranda's arms. "I approve."

"Who is this creep?" Miranda muttered.

"Is he the ex?" Kaori inquired.

"No, he's my brother-in-law," Angela answered.

"Unfortunately, my brother jumped on this ship before I did. Though, I think, given the circumstances-" A hand came out from behind him and slapped him upside the head. Scott ducked his head like an errant child and turned to glare at his older brother. Herc's expression was irate. "Go and poach someone who isn't married," He ordered.

"Oi, I was just kidding around," Scott protested.

"I wasn't," Herc said. Scott stared his brother down for all two seconds before walking away. Angela ignored the finger that ended up clamped between Miranda's teeth as she allowed her eyes wander downward. Max sat next to Herc's left leg with her boot in his mouth, tail wagging happily. Traitor. "Mangy mutt, what are doin' with him?"

Max said nothing, not that he could with a boot in his mouth. "He's been followin' me around lately, I'm not sure why," Herc explained with a sheepish sort of shrug. Angela shot Max a dirty look, he whined, moving to hide behind Herc's other leg.

"I could probably give you two," Kaori grinned. "First one's in his mouth."

"Eh?"

"He's a total Pongo," Kaori elaborated. "All we need now is a Perdita." Out of the three present, Miranda was the only one who got the reference and shot her friend a "too soon" look.

"Anyway, I came to return him and the boot he took," Herc nudged Max with his foot. Max hunkered to the floor, his teeth remained enclosed around the boot. Angela snapped her fingers, Herc frowned at the dog's continued disobedience. "I see you found your ring," Herc said. Angela withdrew her hand, nervous. "Uh, yeah, customs finally got back to me and delivered it," Angela lied, making the mistake of fooling with her hair.

"So, why is Max wearing it?"

"I, uh, safe keeping."

Miranda and Kaori grimaced, the look on Herc's face said it all.

"I was gonna wear it again, I just-"

"You don't need to explain yourself to me, Angie. I get it," Herc walked away, Max trailing behind him despite his effort to shoo him. Angela felt her skin prickle with embarrassment and anger; she pressed her hand to her forehead. "Fuck."

* * *

_December 22d, 2015 –_

Hera Mars and Tango Tasmania stand side by side next to Romeo Blue. Up on the catwalk, the Hansens could see Bruce and Trevin Gage conversing with their intended crew. At least Bruce was. Trevin was preoccupied with getting a better look at his Jaeger while his brother held him by the collar of his jacket so that he didn't fall over the railing.

Kaori was right. Tasmania was a brute of a machine, arguably bulkier than Coyote Tango, but armed just as similarly. Oppositely, Scott and Herc's Jaeger, Hera Mars, was sleek, the definition of a sports car if it stood upright and had legs. Scott was understandably envious of Tasmania's muscle verses Hera's athleticism. "There's gotta be some kinda mistake," He said aloud, not caring what anyone thought. "How do a couple girls end up with a machine like that?"

"What's the matter Scott? I thought smooth and sleek were your thing?" Angela jabbed. Scott shot his sister-in-law a dirty look. "I bet you couldn't handle her," He said.

"I handled your brother, they're about the same, I think," Angela retorted. Scott regarded his brother, Herc responded with by watching him in the corner of his eye, his expression was nothing but a reproof. 'I didn't do anything' Scott mouthed, pointing to her. He knew better than to expect his brother to actually reprimand his wife, that sort of thing only happened twice in time he knew her.

"When are you being deployed?" Herc inclined his head toward her.

Angela shrugged. "Auckland's Shatterdome is in the middle of construction, it won't be done until the following month, maybe later. I don't think I'm going anywhere until then."

"And you're sure you wanna go there?"

"It's not about certainty, Hercules. It's where my Jaeger is going, where it goes, I go," She said. "Miranda too." There's a look on Herc's face that suggests that he wants to protest, but he hangs his head and looks elsewhere.

* * *

_December 31__st__, 2015 –_

"Let's not do this in a big way, okay? Please?"

Getting a divorce is not as a simple as it looks on television. It's expensive for one, but they have the advantage of having no children (anymore), no property or real estate (it's all in ashes), just the clothes in their dormitories and a dog that's chosen to adopt Herc as his new best friend.

Angela thinks it's what she wants. She's angry with him after all and it hurt to be around him. Herc knows it's not what he wants, but he doesn't want to be tied to someone who needs to so badly to get away from him that it's starting to affect how he sees himself. "What about a separation?"

"Separation?"

"It's the same as a divorce, only we stay married."

"Doesn't that- isn't there some stipulation that we have to not live together for twelve months?"

"There might be more to it, but I think it might be better for us."

"Wouldn't a divorce be simpler?"

"…Do you want a divorce?"

Angela's eyes flicker with uncertainty, but she says, "Yes."

* * *

_January 8__TH__, 2016_

Angela leaves for Auckland without fanfare, husbands or siblings to wish her well.

Miranda is quicker to get onto the helicopter than she is, glad to be out of the Academy.

Angela and Max walk just slow enough to not hope he doesn't show up.

And he doesn't.

Which is fine with her… because it has to be.

* * *

_January 18__TH__, 2016_

"Aeris" emerged from Waitemata Harbour sooner than LOCCENT had initially predicted with the data provided by the K-Science division. Its wail comes when no one expected it. The city was frozen with terror as the Kaiju bypassed the city altogether, instead choosing to take to the skies and disappear into the clouds.

No one knew what to make of its behavior. It reframed from actively attacking, choosing instead to glide through the clouds like a bird. The city scrambled to evacuate civilians as the Kaiju dove in and out of the clouds, sweeping over the city to evade or destroy fighter jets that pursued it. The first direct hit was to its underbelly, bloated and sac like. Instead of blood, it bled blue gas, right over the civilians.

The result was not pleasant. They couldn't attack it with ranged weapons lest they wanted a repeat of the incident just moments ago. The only good that came from the attack was that the Kaiju was brought to the ground. It dragged its body towards the waters again, gaseous fumes pouring from its body.

They had a Jaeger, it couldn't fly, but they deployed her anyway.

Out in the middle of the Harbor, Tango Tasmania stood out like a sore thumb. Even the Kaiju seemed to regard it as an oddity as it approached the edge of the harbor shore. Angela had never seen a Kaiju up close before; she'd certainly felt its strength, seen what it could and what they could in attempt to destroy it.

She merely assumed that the creature that destroyed her home looked no different from the one crippled on the ground across from them. "Hey," Miranda broke her train of thought. She looked to her partner, Miranda raised a fist, and Tango did the same, its left fist charged with electricity. "Don't think, just let it flow."

Angela felt the woman's determination and adopted it unconsciously, raising her own fist. The guncanon fastened to the right arm began to charge. "Don't think, let it flow."

_You've got it._

There was no one alive to cheer them on, reasonably no one should expect crowd, but Jaeger's instruments were quick to pick up helicopters, none of which were under orders to be there. Anyone who wasn't present watched it on their television. They dragged the Kaiju off the shore and tossed it into the harbour.

The creature rolled unceremoniously through the water, its bleeding sac losing more its form. It moved quicker in the water, its rage and frustration made evident by the fact that Tango continued to doge it like its attacks were nothing. It moved just like a wounded animal would, leaping from the water and attempting to claw the eyes of its attacker out with no accuracy.

Tango was content to beat it to a pulp, tripping over the creature's split tail whenever it tried dive under the water. The Jaeger and Kaiju were restless. Aeris' claw tore at its armor in its mad scramble to get out from under the Jaeger's weight as it fell on top him. Tango took the punishment, Miranda and Angela shouldering every bit of its body that was torn away as they pummeled the creature's face. Aeris used its hind legs to push away from the Jaeger, Tango Tasmania stumbled backward and fell to its knees its tail rose from the water and wound itself around the Jaeger's neck. Aeris rose up into the air, its long leathery arms batting against all odds to escape.

Tango's head swerved to the left, the alarms went off in succession with the sound of Tango's neck being crushed under the force of the tail. Tango Tasmania's left hand grabbed the end of its tail. The right drew back, fingers together.

Aeris screamed as the canon the Jaeger's right arm fires. Aeris' mangled head exploded as the final bout of pressure applied to the Jaeger's neck separated it from its body. Tango Tasmania crashed into the water at the same as Aeris', the head landed upside down in the harbour.

* * *

_January 22, 2016_

There wasn't anything anyone could do about the Kaiju's toxin spreading across the city, except pray they could do something to protect the neighboring cities nearest to the "chemical spill". The city was uninhabitable. Getting the pilots and their Jaeger out of the area was a task in and of itself.

The bottom of the Conn-Pod had been compromised. The clamps that kept their feet in place sent them falling toward the top of the head, hanging awkwardly from their harnesses. Miranda suffered a blow to the head when Tango's head landed in the bay, one that left her unconscious, with only enough strength to dip in and out of awareness when they tried to bring her around. Angela received minor bruising around her ribs, a mild concussion and a twisted ankle.

* * *

She woke up four days later, contemplating her physical attraction to hospitals and trauma. Miranda lay across from her. A breathing apparatus covered her face. The right side of her forehead was stitched up. At first glance, Angela thought she was merely sleeping.

Her face was completely still, devoid of pain or any sign that she was conscious. A nurse walked into the room as Angela tried to sit up. She turned her head slightly in Angela's direction, smiling. "Hey, at least one of you is conscious," The comment was so offhanded, that Angela assumed the woman was simply joking. Instead she found out her partner was comatose.

The next day, she woke up on her side and spotted the familiar green and brown tones of a jacket she hadn't seen in years.

"Herc?" She almost reproaches herself for how happy she sounded. His face comes into focus and it's like all the time spent apart vanished between them. He leaned over the bed and kisses her roughly, but no less loving. She grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and tries to draw him nearer to her body, teeth sinking down on his bottom lip.

There's this sound, loud and obnoxious. She recognizes it as the stupid heart monitor and turns. It's in the middle of the night, there's not a soul around besides Miranda. The palms of her hand ache; her fingernails are pressed into the center and leave impressions when she finally relaxes her fingers. The bedroom light floods her vision as one of the nurses walk toward her bed, concerned. Angela hid her face behind her hand, embarrassed and cursed whatever medication they put in her IV, if any.

Where had that come from?

She and Tango returned to Kodiak Island half conscious and yearning for their other half.

* * *

_May 22, 2016 –_

Entrenched in the affairs that are so disconnected from the concept childhood and motherhood, Angela almost forgets what it's like to have children as a constant presence. The maternal/parental instinct, that never leaves her, but the familiarity with children does.

Stepping out of her room, Angela doesn't expect to hear the sound of a little giggle. She didn't expect find Max indulging in the affectionate hands scratching him under the jaw. Angela felt her heart jump into her throat as her feet moved forward and her hand rises from her side. _Chuck?_ She almost says his name. Maybe she did say it because the little person looked up from Max.

The door across from her opened, the little girl was on her feet immediately and bounded up the stairs without consideration of who was coming out. Herc stumbled down the stairs, long legs dodging the considerably smaller body that squeezed past and ducked behind Pentecost to enter his office. "Mako," The name comes from Pentecost's mouth and sounds so much like a father admonishing their errant child.

There's a response from the girl, but Angela doesn't understand any of it. Both men look in her direction, Pentecost's expression remains natural but Herc recognizes immediately why Angela was staring as though she saw a woman walk through a wall.

"Max, c'mere," She snaps her fingers and hates how strangled her voice sounds. Max whines, looking over to the door. Angela doesn't wait for him to respond. He can stay for all she cares. Turning her back to all three men, she starts down the opposite end of the hall, not caring if it would take her straight into the Jaeger facility.

She heard the jingle of Max's collar and footsteps following close behind, Angela did him the respect of stopping. Max trotted over to her, Herc close at his heels. Exhaling through her nose she said, "I'm fine."

"I wasn't going to ask," Herc lied, adjusting the sleeve on his arm. "I wanted to-"

"Why is there a kid here?" She interrupted him. "Is Stacker mental? It's not safe."

"Considering how things are now, she's probably in the safest place imaginable," Herc remarked. "The girl's a survivor from Tokyo." That gave Angela pause; she'd heard all about Tokyo's misfortune, the little girl with red shoe, but never thought she'd end up here. "Where's the rest of her family?"

"Her family doesn't want her. Stacker says they blame her for the deaths of her parents," Herc recounted.

"That's big of them," Angela muttered. "She's just a kid. There was nothing she could've done."

"Yeah, well, they don't see it that way," His eyes wander up from Max and meet her gaze. The dots connected themselves, Angela's jaw shifted as Herc held her glare. Her weight shifted to the right, she crossed her arms and raised her chin. "I hope you aren't insulating anything Hercules," She said.

"I'm-"

"Miss Hansberry," Both Angela and Herc jumped at the sound Pentecost's voice. Herc stepped out of the way, bringing Pentecost into her line of sight. Pentecost was as imposing close up as he was at a distance. Mako stood behind Pentecost, not exactly hiding, but it was clear she wasn't comfortable around people who weren't the Marshall. Angela braced herself for reproach as she said, "Look, I'm sorry if I scared her, I didn't know she was there-"

"On the contrary, Miss Hansberry," There was humor in his eyes despite the seriousness of his expression. "Miss Mori wishes to know when she can play with Max again." Angela's mouth made a small 'o', her cheeks burned as she shifted her gaze down toward Max. The bulldog snuffled, his droopy eyes embodying the essence of an overeager child wanting to play with his new friend.

"Oh, well, she can play with him now, I don't need the mutt," Angela kneeled and scratched Max behind his ears. "G'on, go play with your new friend, Maxie." Max barked appreciatively, slipping out of her grasp he trotted over to the little girl. Mako stepped out from behind Pentecost, a smile playing on her lips. "Arigatou gozaimasu," Mako bowed.

Angela knew enough about Japanese through pop culture marginalization to know she was being thanked. She returned the motion, albeit clumsily and likely incorrectly. She watched Max chase after Mako as she disappeared down the hall. Her chest felt warm and her hands tingled. That was normal, right? Pentecost nodded his thanks to the woman. "Now, about your assignment-"

"Sir?" Her hands fell behind her back as she straightened her posture. The moment itself, was weird for Herc, who was still having trouble seeing his wife so rigid.

"In any circumstance we might pair you with someone you know, but you enlisted on your own, roughly a month after your… ex-husband, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir," Angela answered. "I asked my sister to come, but she didn't think she was qualified."

Pentecost nodded. "Based on general observation and your psych evaluation, you're compatible with at least one other person in the academy."

"Who is she?" She asked. Herc raised an eyebrow at the assumption of gender. It could be a man for all she knew, but he hoped not. He wasn't the jealous type (he didn't like to think so, anyway), but wasn't crazy with the idea of his wife sharing a headspace with anyone that wasn't him - not that she'd allow that.

"Jessica Hardwick," Pentecost pulls the manila folder tucked under his arm out into the open. Angela took the folder when offered, flipping it open without hesitation. Jessica Hardwick was only eighteen years old; her features were still round from adolescence, only just bordering adulthood. Her eyes drifted across a particular line in the psych evaluation and she raised her head. She wanted to demand whether or not Pentecost was making a joke at her expense. The man's expression was as serious as the last time she checked. "Well, alright, when do I meet her?"

"0026, next Monday," Pentecost answered. "Same time as your Jaeger."

"Tango Tasmania?" She really hated that name. "Is she ready for deployment?"

"Almost, repairs are nearly complete. We'll let you know which 'dome you'll call home next. …You're dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

_May 27, 2016 –_

Jessica Hardwick is quiet, disturbingly quiet. Some part of Angela understands why, but when confronted with a face young enough to her son at the edge of adolescence (give a take or few years plus), she expected - wanted - a loud and rambunctious teenager. She wanted someone she could grab by the ear and discipline, focus her frustration on. Jessica didn't give her that.

Instead, she got a girl who followed her lead or moved against it when required. They get used to each other in Kwoon, Jessica tried to mimic her walk, which led to more than a few inappropriate wolf whistles from the other Ranger hopefuls. Angela did the most talking she'd ever done in her entire life when in the presence of Jessica. The girl seemed appreciative of it; she was always listening, even if her attention appeared to be elsewhere. In the Drift, Jessica was loud; her memories were oversaturated, full of yellow light bleeding from a pair of lifeless eyes, red that stood out against her green Harvard hoodie and soot too blue to be actual ash from anything human.

It was the first time Angela had been overwhelmed by anything that wasn't coming from her and the resulting hangover made it hard to focus on anything except the little details she left behind. She'd never been in the middle of a Kaiju attack, she'd been close, but this girl had the misfortune of being in the thick of it and surviving at the expense of everyone else. The story of just about everyone else's life if you wanted to be cynical. Jessica wasn't exactly a picture of perfect composure, she cried about it almost every time and Angela allowed it for a time.

"Don't cry. The Kaiju aren't going to care if you're scared of them."

"I don't cry because I'm scared," Jessica remarked, her watery eyes blazing with anger. "Did you?"

"No."

The cadets, they made fun of the girl, put bets on how long she'd last in a fight if she ever got the Ranger status. Were it not for the fact that she was the adult, Angela would've put a stick to their asses and chased them out of the Academy. Jessica deserved more respect than she got, but what did she expect from little boys? It took more than a few times to connect with each other properly, but they got there.

Jessica asked whether or not they were still intended be co-pilots. "Yes, it's what Pentecost wants," Angela replied unquestioningly.

"Yeah, but is it what you want?" Jessica reworded the question.

"Yes, yes is," Angela replied without the slightest bit of hesitation.

* * *

_May 31, 2016 –_

"I heard you were leaving," Angela looked up from the duffle bag when she hears him. Herc was wearing that silly vest of his that framed his modestly defined arms in her favorite gray shirt. Max sits at his feet, panting happily with a ball clamped between his teeth. Traitorous dog had yet to return to her, he spent all his time with Mako now.

Angela pulled the sleeves of her red cardigan over her fingers out of habit, something she was comfortable with doing whenever he caught trying to sneak around him about something. "Yeah, command wants us back in Auckland," She replied smoothly. "Shatterdome's finished, and the Academy's kind of crowded enough already without non-students cluttering things. I heard you and Scott got Sydney."

"Fingers crossed," Herc grinned warily. "I miss home. Don't you?"

"Not really," Angela said it without averting her gaze from her bag. "I miss my family, but I don't miss Sydney." Herc watched her slam each shirt from her closet into the bag; he'd hit a nerve by merely expounding on the subject she breached. The act itself was not difficult, everything set Angela off. It put him at an extreme disadvantage on what exactly to talk about with her.

When they had gotten the divorce, he hoped that the time they spent separated would open some form of dialog between them. They jumped over the hurtle of a literal separation, they were arguably becoming different people because world circumstances and a post-marriage perspective. Instead, Angela Hansberry was still unwilling to communicate with him on the most basic of topics. "When I was in the hospital… you didn't come to see me," He looked up, blue eyes wide open.

Angela stood in the middle of the floor, everything was packed and the bag hung low at her feet. Was she really doing this? Tango Tasmania's unfortunate mishap of a victory wasn't something that could be ignored. He saw the news footage, listened to the LOCCENT report. He thought of nothing except jumping on the nearest mode of transportation and reaching her.

"Exclusion zone was too hot, we couldn't enter Auckland until the quarantine was lifted," Herc explained. "Besides, would you have seen me?"

"I was out for four days," She remarked. "I figure if you came, I wouldn't be awake to see you."

"That doesn't answer my question, Angie."

"I don't know," She said. Herc paused, the automatic retort dead before it could even circulate in his mouth. He watched her, her face was masked by her hair, but her slouched posture and bowed head told him everything. "Anyway, it doesn't matter," Angela shouldered her bag and tried to move past him. Herc let her walk away, not sure what he could say or do that wouldn't make the situation between them any worse.

Max stays with Herc and that almost hurts Angela more than the tatters she called a former marriage.

* * *

_April 25, 2017 –_

They return to Auckland with Tango Tasmania. Jessica is eager to go sight seeing once they get settled into the Shatterdome, Angela chooses to sleep in. Miranda is as unresponsive as she was once Angela was strong enough to move around in a wheelchair and talk to her. Angela thinks she can hear her voice in her heard the clearest whenever she visits, but brushes it off as her imagination despite what she knows. The doctors still have hope that she'll wake up, Angela tried to keep hers tapered but thanked them for being optimistic.

With Jessica at her side, Angela is the senior pilot and far more comfortable in the boots of a Jaeger (so to speak). Tango Tasmania is already considered one of the golden oldies once the Mark-3's start rolling out of the Jaeger facilities, maybe past its due date.

The media eats up the idea of an estranged husband and wife, separated, but compliant in the war effort. They eat up the idea of an all-female team piloting what is considered a masculine machine. Talk shows are unbearable exercises in torture, but she manages to keep her temperament and play the happy woman who wears silky dresses with chunky curls that frame her box head. In the midst of dizzying fame and attention foisted upon pilots, Angela and Herc are two sides of the same coin. They are wary of the attention. They chose to retreat from it most of the time, but are careful not to come off as curmudgeonly toward those who were merely grateful to have their help.

(Angela found it hard to believe they were considered "old timers", and at thirty nine and eight).

Angela got more unwanted letters requesting sex favors than she cared to remember. She stock piled them on the off chance that she needed evidence (you never know). Occasionally, a letter from Margret would pop up in the pile, apparently she was engaged and wanted her at the wedding (mandatory, not optional), but her mailbox was fairly stuffed with creeps, trinkets and women thanking her for merely being who she was in spite of her loss. Herc likely received the same kind of letters, but she wasn't under the obligation to care anymore considering their divorce.

Jessica and Scott seem to absorb the attention like sponges. Jessica thrived off the unadulterated (or adulterated) attention so long as it veered from her personal life. She got a kick out of her thank you letters. Particularly the ones addressed to her from little girls no more eight or nine years old. The glue would still be wet on some homemade cards. "I'm like their superhero or something," Jessica smiled. "And to think I wanted to be an accountant."

As for Scott? This was a natural element for him, the only thing that had changed was the social status. He and Herc were God's gift to women, their fame simply increased his chances of landing a date or a one-night-stand. He took any woman that Herc rejected, content to show her a good time on his behalf. Herc still wasn't quite over his ladyfriend, which was fine with Scott, it just meant more for him on all sides of their situation.

He forwarded any e-mail or letter that started or ended with "I want your babies" to his brother. Scott of course, was over the moon, baffled at the number of pregnancy requests they were getting. "I if knew this would happen, I would've set up a business." Herc just hid his face behind his hands, embarrassed.

It wasn't all sex and fame, of course. If they so much as stepped outside, there was a chance of getting pelted with an egg or some ungodly projectile meant to tarnish their image. Apparently a few animal activists saw Jaegers as an affront to Kaiju rights to co-exist in their environment. Coupled with the relgious movements that rose up around the Kaiju, Rangers like Herc and Angela didn't know where they weren't wanted until they stepped through the door or someone saw their jackets.

* * *

_August 10, 2017 –_

Angela returned to Melbourne as quietly as possible on the fourth anniversary of K-Day. The task itself was difficult because she has a sister who's immensely proud of her older sister despite her reservations and wants to announce her presence to all of Melbourne. She has to beg Margret to keep quiet about it when she steps into the airport, Margret does what she asked, frustrated she can't flaunt her appreciation to the world.

It was roughly eight hours before the wedding ceremony itself began. It was in the middle of the night, but Margret is just happy to have her sister home.

Australia, however, feels unreal to her. She felt disconnected from the world, even when she stared out at the waves and remembers life before the end of the world. Now the water was home to the Kaiju; it was their territory and she was eternally landlocked.

"Where's Maxie?"

"He left me for my husband, if you can believe that."

* * *

_November 1st__, 2019 –_

Something was wrong. He knew that even before they stepped into the Conn-Pod. Scott was uncharacteristically quiet, morose. "I'm just tired," Scott brushed his concern and suspicions off with a shrug, messaging the back of his neck with one gloved hand.

If he's thinking about it immediately, it never shows in the Drift, but the apprehension is there, even as his mind fumbles to cover it with sarcasm, legs and tits.

Herc just doesn't know what _it_ is.

"So, I hear your lady and her joey accompanying us on this drop," Scott, ever the conversationalist, decided to go with the touchy subject.

Herc spared his brother a glare and just shook his head. "She's not my lady, she's a pilot," He said. "And you'll show her some respect."

"She could be both," Scott yawned.

That time Herc did glare at Scott. His brother just shrugged as Hera Mars was lifted out of the Shatterdome.

* * *

A Two Jaeger team wasn't an unusual occurrence. Circumstances often necessitated more than two Jaegers defend a particular city or coastline. Places such as Asia were always sending two teams out. For Angela and Jessica, it was just the first time they'd ever been called on to participate with another team.

Category II Kaiju were slowly beginning to become a thing of the past. Angela theorized whenever they appeared, the creatures only seemed content with causing more trouble than actual damage. The science division disagreed of course, citing that none of the Category II's so far have been mere troublemakers.

The Category III's on the other hand, they felt and fought more like a focused fighting machine at the risk of being larger and heavier. Mark-1's couldn't keep up with the latter in terms of punishment. Tango was being repaired more frequently than she liked to contemplate, CIII's tore through her armor like it was nothing. She could see the looks of envy in Jessica's face whenever Mark-4's were mentioned. Were it not for the fact that the Defense Corps needed all of their Jaegers, Angela believed Tango would be decommissioned in a heartbeat.

_I've never seen Hera Mars in action, are the pilots any good?_

_Hera's got the best pilots the program could ask for. She's more than good._

_Oh, well, that's good._

_Don't worry Jessie, they're professionals._

"Good morning ladies, the Gods of war have arrived."

"Are you serious, right now, Scott?"

"Though I'd lighten the mood, Herc, don't have a cow."

Angela felt a ripple of uncertainty through her connection with Jessica. _Mostly professional_, she amended. Tango Tasmania waded into the water at a casual pace as V-50's flew overhead, Hera Mars hanging idly the harness in preparation for the drop.

Plexus looked up from the water, its jagged teeth placing emphasis on its overbite. It looked to Tango Tasmania as Hera was released and crashed into the water. The Jaeger stood upright, water running down its shoulders and over its person.

Plexus, a Category II Kaiju, topped the general classifications of a CII, setting itself apart from its brethren with the highest toxicity levels and water displacement yet. It made no move to enter the city yet, content with swimming through the water like a shark waiting for its prey. The behavior put some in the Shatterdome off, but there wasn't any time to assess its behavior fully without risk to the civilians.

Plexus' shoulders hunched as it lowered itself back into the water until nothing except its crowned head remained visible. "The hell is it doing?" Herc asked.

"Maybe it's scared?" Jessica ventured. "I've seen my cat do the same thing."

"No. Not a chance," Angela said.

Both Hera and Tango moved through the water toward it, on guard. Plexus moved to the right, its long legs powering it away from the Jaegers now in pursuit. Hera Mars gained on the Kaiju first, its light armor working in its favor as opposed to against it. Tango moved back toward the shoreline.

The Kaiju veered toward Hera Mars, with a roar it leap out of the water and on top of the Mark-1. Plexus' legs seemed to force the Jaeger down into the waters; instead of destroying it, it leaps again. Hera managed to grab its tail. Hera was pulled out of the water, its weight fudging the Kaiju's attempt to sail across the expanse between itself and Tango. They spun the creature around by the tail, Plexus' claws drag across the water in a futile attempt to halt its momentum.

It twists as Hera's grip releases its tail and thrusts its leg back. The Mark-1 goes down and Kaiju rolls through the water, irate. Both Jaeger and Kaiju scramble toward each other, the harbor water slows Hera down enough that Plexus' lands the first blow with its head, sending Hera down to its left knee. Hera's movement is clumsy, unfocused. Its head shakes wildly as though dizzy and out of sorts, a second blow knocks the Jaeger over. Angela watched as the Kaiju crawled up onto their side and hooks its claws into the socket of its right arm.

_Why aren't they moving?_

_Something's wrong._

Hera bucked under the weight of the Kaiju, but its movement remained clumsy, out of sync. Then they started screaming and she was sure it was each other, not at the Kaiju about to tear them apart. _Angela, shouldn't we do something?_ Angela let her actions speak for her. They moved as one, powering through the water. Plexus doesn't look up from gnawing at the arm Hera. It's vindictive in its intentions and doesn't see the massive armored hand coming for it until it's too late to react.

Tango Tasmania's hand wraps around the base of its throat and heaves the Kaiju off its partner, the creature howls, clawing furiously at its arm. Angela and Jessica thrust their arms downward, slamming the Kaiju into the water. They kneel on the Kaiju's stomach and proceed to punch it with their free arm.

"What -the fuck, Hercules!"

Plexus' head jerked up and out of the water, trying to angle itself to bite Tango's wrist.

"The hell was that-!"

Tango raised its right arm and charged its guncanon. Plexus' screamed furiously, allowing the barrel of the guncanon entrance of the mouth.

"You wanna talk about this now or would rather we kill the Kaiju in front of us!"

Tango Tasmania stood over the scorched corpse, blue blood spattered across its chest and face. The barrel of gun canon was still burning hot from the volley fired into the gut of the Kaiju's head.

Jessica didn't need to be connected to Angela to know the woman was livid.

_Fucking amateurs._

* * *

Auckland's Shatterdome wasn't terribly different from Sydney's and he was curious to explore it, but the last thing he wanted to be doing was standing in the hall outside the office of the Marshall. When he saw Angela and Jessica storm off the elevator of their bay area, he should've expected she'd do something.

He just didn't expect her to chuck two helmets at them and actually nail them in the same succession. That time, he did lose his temper and if it weren't for their respective Jaeger teams, he was sure he and Angela would've done more than just throw helmets at each other.

They were not on friendly territory. Everyone in the Shatterdome watched him and Scott like a pack of wolves that weren't terribly happy that a pair of dingo's just walked into their house.

"Are you gonna stare at us like that the whole time?" Scott muttered, adjusting the ice pack on his head. "Your face is gonna get stuck like that you keep it up."

Angela's expression, loathing incarnate, remained steadfast. Jessica seemed to be mirroring her emotions, likely a result of the hangover.

"Shut up, Scott," Herc muttered, right eye twitching when he shifted his gaze toward his ex-wife.

"I can't believe you're defending her," Scott muttered. "She almost put your eye out with that damn helmet."

"Exaggeration, much? She did not," Jessica protested, stepping forward with her fists raised. Both Scott and Herc regarded her, unimpressed. "Don't entertain them, Jessica," Angela responded, guiding the girl back against the wall. "They're being brats."

"Yeah, because throwing helmets at us was so mature," Herc mumbled.

"I'm sorry?" It was Jessica's turn to put a hand on Angela's arm. Her eyes were wide as saucers, practically begging, _please don't hit him again_.

The door to the office opened, everyone fell silent.

* * *

_November 2, 2018_ -

Herc proved loyalty to a paramilitary organization mattered more than blood.

Scott learned he hated snitches.

They had it out one last time once they got back to Sydney. Even in the enclosed space of their bedroom, Herc was still the better fighter, but Scott gave as good as he got. Their faces and limbs were bruised and bloodied once by the time they were done. If anyone heard them, no one made no move to stop or break them apart.

Max situated himself under the bed, more irritated than scared by their behavior.

Sitting on the bed, Scott messaged his jaw and spat his blood where he may. Herc busied himself with washing the blood out of his mouth in the bathroom. When he stepped out of the bathroom, he was barely able to dodge Scott as he comes storming into the bathroom, his swollen raccoon eye a mirror reflection of his own on the left.

His things were packed and everything that was remotely related the Defense Corps was lying somewhere in a corner in a pile, a show of his contempt. He stepped out of the bathroom just as roughly, pushing him out of the doorway. Herc grabbed his brother my arm, stopping him short of reaching the bed. If he was going to say something, Scott never gave him the chance. "You lay your hands on me again it won't end well for you."

"I think you got that backward, Scott," Herc remarked.

Scott pulled his arm from his brother's grasp. Shouldering his bag, he spat one last time on the floor and walked out of the room.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sooo, yeah, how that? This final chapter got a bit long and I had to separate it for the sake of coherency and pacing. I didn't feel quite right jumping straight onto Striker Eureka without establishing some kind of basis for Herc and Angela coming together (I figure she'd want to avoid him at all costs if she could help it), so I kinda expounded on her pilot career and comrades. Expect the second part of the final chapter once I can find the spare time. I really hate the school year.

**Notes:**

*"Hera Mars" is name I ended up with the Jaeger name generator on blindal's tumblr. I thought it was cute.  
*I've never liked the name "Tango Tasmania" (said dislike has extended itself to mine attempting to kill the Jaeger on numerous occasions in this story), luckily for me, it apparently isn't a canon name because reasons.  
*I initally thought it would be extremely weird for Auckland, New Zealand to have a Shatterdome (the maps literally make it look like a hop and a skip away from Australia), but Los Angeles and Anchorage are to US established Shatterdome and word has it Japan are more than one as well.  
*Apologizes for any errors you come across. I'll correct them as soon as I am able.


	5. There Is An End To This Road, Right?

**05: There Is An End To This Road, Right? (2)**

* * *

"_A person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended."_ - Ian McEwan, _Atonement_

**Trigger Warning:** (Child abuse): Verbal abuse toward minors; Suicide; Dismemberment (Kaiju and Human)

* * *

_November 8_ _TH_ _, 2019_

When Angela returned from the bathroom she didn't notice Jessica until she almost walked into her. Jessica was crouched in front of the bunk, rifling through one of the boxes Margret sent her.

"What are you doing?"

Jessica had the sense to look like she'd done something wrong, but her curiosities got the better of her when she pulled a photograph from the box. "I didn't mean to pry, but it was kinda sticking out and I couldn't help it," The girl shrugged shamelessly. "You didn't tell me your dad was a soldier."

"There's not much to tell," She said, taking the photograph. "He did his duty and came back scrambled." The photograph was of her, Margret and Frank on his motorcycle. She was wearing his favorite leather jacket, Margret was on her lap and they're safe and secure against him while her mother takes the picture. Angela never had any aspirations of being a soldier, but her mother always told her Frank was a hero for going to war. She loved the idea of her father being a hero. It certainly gave her something to talk about in class as a kid. She idolized him a lot more because of it. Funny she would find herself in a similar situation, completely divorced from the intimacy of human violence. "Is this, like, a family tradition?"

"How do you mean?" Angela picked the box up from the ground put the picture back inside. Margret probably put it in there by mistake. She'd send it back to her when she got the chance. As Jessica stood she started to fidget, scuffing her feet in the same way she used to when she had a crush on some boy. "If it weren't for the Kaiju, would you join the military like you dad?"

"No, I would certainly not," Angela replied, sitting on her bed. "I was a graphics designer, I liked my job. My husband, though? He was a soldier." She grinned sourly. "Still is, really."

"Cool." At Angela's glare, Jessica corrected herself. "I mean, I think- well, I actually, I do think it is cool." She nodded a child prepared to stand their ground against their parent. "He helps people when it counts. Like us."

Angela chose to keep her bitter thoughts to herself. "Why did that picture interest you so much, Jessica?"

"I've started having these dreams about your dad, actually," She said.

Angela's eyebrows raised above her bangs. "Well, I'm sorry for that."

"I mean it's not pervy or anything, they're memories mostly. Hugs or birthday presents, motorcycle rides. The usual, I guess. But, it starts getting really dark," Jessica said, making a wavy motion with her hand. "Like someone turned off the lights or something. I don't know how to explain it, really. There are all these emotions - confusion, anger, fear. All about your dad and when you were a kid." Jessica pointed to the box. "I wanted to find out if I was just making this stuff up. He seems nice in all the pictures I found."

Angela doesn't speak for a moment. She stares down at the box then back up at her partner. Jessica's got a look on her face that clearly states she'll find out one way or another, by accident or by RABTT chasing. "My dad... he had some troubles after we were born. Mum says he was having problems all along, like drinking and nightmares, but kept quiet about because he figured he could handle it. But, things exploded when he lost his job. He was stuck at home with two kids while his wife was at work. He yelled at us, mostly at me. The one time he almost hurt my sister, my mother left him because of it," Angela explained calmly. "She told me his behavior was because of the pills they gave him a long time ago, some kind of neurotoxin that messed him up, but she wasn't about to let us stay in that environment."

"And your dad, he just let her leave?"

"No," Angela scoffed. "But that didn't mean my uncle was going let him in his house, which is where we went."

"Did he get help at least?"

"Eventually."

Jessica lowered her face into her hands. "Oh, my God, Angela, I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- I mean- I meant to, but I didn't think-!"

"My other co-pilot, Miranda, she had the same kinds of questions after we Drifted." She paused. "You could've asked."

"You might've opened up to Miranda, but you don't talk a lot about yourself to me," Jessica said. At the roll of Angela's eyes she continued. "I mean, I don't talk about myself either and we see a lot of ourselves in the Drift, but- I dunno, I guess I'm starting wonder. What are we to each other exactly?"

"I'm not sure what you mean?"

She shrugged. "After the war started, people really didn't care whether or not you lost your family to a giant monster. If you were homeless, you were homeless, you know? If I stayed out of the way, I wouldn't be bothered. If I knew when to hide, I'd be safe. Here? Here, I feel like I belong somewhere. Like I can be safe and keep people safe, and that's mostly because of you're my partner. They let me stay because Marshall Pentecost wanted us to be partners, because you chose me.

"But, you're distant and really cold sometimes. I hear all these great stories about co-pilots, how connected they are. But us?" Jessica pointed to the box. "There's a connection, but you don't want to develop it. We work together, yeah, but, we never wear our jackets at the same time. And I can always tell you don't wanna be bothered with small talk, or jokes. You're always thinking about him and if you're not thinking about him, you're thinking about Miranda. And if you're not thinking about her, it's your husband. Where do I fit?"

Angela couldn't say she never put much thought into her relationship with Jessica. When they were partnered up, she was still getting over Miranda and the idea of having more than one voice in her head, more than two sets of memories.

Jessica took a while to come out of her shell. When she did, Angela's obligation to talk diminished and so did the compulsion to share. Angela was content with working under the assumption that they _were_ just partners, even if she knew the girl felt otherwise. She never thought it could be translated as not caring, though. "What do you want us to be?"

"I want us to be friends," Jessica replied. "I wanna be like the other pilots, I guess. Talk outside the Drift and be proud of the things we do. I don't want to be angry, scared and sad all the time. I wanna matter to you, Angela."

Angela flinched when she saw one hand cover Jessica's face in a vain attempt to hide the tears running down her face. "That's what I want," Jessica raised her hands in surrender. "I didn't mean to word vomit." Rising from the bed Angela gathered the girl up in her arms. Jessica let out a sob and wrapped her arms around Angela's middle. "Jessie, you matter to me," Angela soothed, rubbing her back.

"It doesn't feel like it," Jessica spoke into her shirt.

"Well, we can add that to the list of things Angela Hansen mucks up," Angela murmured into her hair. She could tell the girl in her arms she didn't mean to be an ass about how she felt, didn't mean to retreat inside herself and toil over and over on the reasons that brought her to Kodiak island and the Jaeger Program. But she doesn't.

Angela tried to be a better friend and partner to her. The leather jacket embroidered with their Jaeger's logo still reminded her of her father, invoked the old smells from her childhood. Separating one from the other was hard, but not impossible. So, she tried to think of Jessica's wanted and needed when she wore it.

* * *

_November 11_ _th_ _ 2019 -_

The Defense Corps can't afford to have them suspended for long, so they're given the lenient suspension of three weeks. It was torture for Jessica, who doesn't like the idea of being benched at all, but Angela takes it in stride, choosing to preoccupy herself with writing to Margret.

Her inbox was somewhat empty. Margret had only sent a few e-mails and letters every now and again since getting married. She was preoccupied with her husband, David, something she remembered being herself.

Once upon a time, she figured they wouldn't be that kind of couple, but Herc and Angela couldn't keep their hands off each other the first couple weeks of their marriage. She was sure they would've spent most of it in bed if she didn't have an obligation to her job.

Angela did her best to recount most of what she did prior to dropping off the face of the planet with her sister.

In the background, she could always hear Jessica grumbling to herself, wondering what to do now she couldn't go anywhere near their Jaeger until suspension was up. Girl was merely twenty one, but you wouldn't have been able to tell by the way she crawled up the walls from Jaeger withdrawal. "I just wanna tinker with her, is that too much to ask?"

"Apparently, so, Jessie."

Angela had to order her out of the Shatterdome every now and again, socialize with someone who wasn't entrenched in the war effort. Jessica always felt like she was betraying their friendship by even thinking of becoming attached to someone else, but Angela assured her she wasn't the jealous type. "World's not gonna end if you're not spending every waking hour with me, Jessie."

Still, Jessica manages to get her Jaeger fix from somewhere easily without ever approaching the Jaeger bays. By now, everyone's heard of the billion dollar Jaeger, Striker Eureka. The first Mark-5 and final Jaeger produced by the Defense Corps., sat cozy in the Sydney Shatterdome. Angela remembered hearing rumors of the recession of the Mark production, but she never thought they'd stop at only one Mark-5.

She saw the blueprints and the rough cell phone photographs taken by a Shatterdome tech in Sydney. If she could have described it, Angela barely thought "shiny" was the proper word for it. Striker was cold. Everything about its design spoke of an immediate detachment from empathy, but a complete dedication to its purpose. Angela could already see Jessica daydreaming about piloting it, everyone was.

* * *

Mako is fourteen when Herc sees her again. She's at the age where her body doesn't seem to know what to do with the extra length it's gained so she walks around the Sydney Shatterdome like she isn't accustomed to her own feet yet. The combat boots aren't helping either, he figures.

Still, whenever she's around, it's the happiest (or most content) he's seen Stacker. Some part of him was jealous of that stability, really.

Though he lost his sister and was arguably separated from his partner, Tamsin, by mere location, Stacker had someone to talk to or bounce off of. Mako was a constant. Herc, he didn't have anything remotely resembling that. His brother hated his guts and wanted him nowhere him once the trial was over. Angela also hated him, and would arguably chuck another helmet at him if she saw him again. When the suspension was given, Herc didn't know what to do with hisself. His Jaeger was under repairs and would be reassigned to other pilots.

Herc was effectively without any ties. He couldn't focus on anything, he found himself relatively unmotivated to check into bay six, where Striker Eureka currently rested on its laurels. He'd been excited before things went downhill, now his level passion for Jaegers was below the point of apathy. He found himself wandering around the Shatterdome, feeling out of sorts, wondering if he should go and pester his best friend for a cuppa and shoot the breeze. Of course, that was beginning to appear next to impossible. Stacker seemed busier and busier these days, even with Mako to look after. He jumped from dome to dome, preoccupied with finalization of the Jaeger Program's production.

So, it's something of a surprise, the one day he decides to crawl out of his shadowy hole he calls a bedroom, he walks right into Miss Mako Mori. She apologized for not looking where her feet were taking her. He accepted it for her pride's sake, adjusting his vest nervously. "How long have you've been here, Miss Mori?"

"For a week. Sensei -" She stops, correcting herself. "The Marshall, he was in Auckland prior to coming here."

"I know, I was there."

"I do not know the particulars, but Miss Hansberry was very upset about the drop, but did not conduct herself properly when she disagreed with the other team," Mako's eyes met his. She spoke vaguely, but Herc was fully aware that she knew with whom Angela disagreed. He hung his head for a moment and shrugged his shoulders. "Something happened, something out of my control," He said. He wouldn't say anything else, and she wasn't prying. Her gaze slightly judgmental, Mako nodded her head in subtle understanding. "Miss Hansberry, she doesn't like to talk to me."

"Don't take it personally, Miss Mori," He said, shoving his hands into his pocket. "Angela hates everybody."

"She doesn't hate her co-pilot," Mako replied, watching Herc frown. "And, I think, she misses Max. Why did he stay behind?"

"I couldn't tell ya, I don't speak dog," Herc sighed. "Is Stacker around?"

"Not at the moment," Mako replied. "He should return shortly. If it's important, I can give him a message."

"It's not, but thank you," Herc nodded, appreciative of her concern. They parted ways, Herc heading out of the Shatterdome, Mako ready to preoccupy herself with pestering the Jaeger teams for spare parts.

* * *

_November 21_ _ST,_ _ 2019 -_

There are certain things you learn to get used to.

Bad food, too little food to really complain about quality and a fewer variations in your wardrobe than you care to admit. Fatigues work, but she missed being able to wear something pretty just for the sake of it.

She's half sleep when the alarm goes off and the screen across from their bed starts relaying information on the Kaiju rising. She waits until she hears Jessica's eager feet hit the floor before she follows her out of bed. Milling about the bedroom, Angela tries to find her bearings while people are banging on their door. She's only been forty for eleven months, but it has not been kind to her on any physical level despite being in peak condition.

Jessica was a rabbit, hoping from end of the room to another, fetching her clothes, adjusting her toothbrush in her mouth. She stops long enough to sling an arm around her shoulder and kiss on her cheek. When Jessica says it, it's flat, all "om" instead of "um", lacking the inflection of her own accent. No one's called her mum for a very long time. Angela knows it out of jest, but it's hard to keep it under control. "I'm not your mother, sweetheart," She's surprised by how soft her voice is. She should be angry, but she's isn't.

Jessica gave her this kind of shrug, the type she's only seen children make when their admonished, but don't particularly care they're wrong in this case. "I know you're not," She said. "Anyways, it was just a joke." They both allow themselves to smile, Jessica doesn't say anymore, but Angela gets the message.

Surrogacy could be a bitch sometimes.

They had less than seven minutes to get ready. Walking down the hall toward the Drivesuit room, it almost seems a tad ridiculous to put on clothes just to get out of them. No one questions the routine, of course. She suspects no one actually wants to see what their teammates wear underneath their uniforms. Tango's jackets, retrofitted bomber jackets, bore at least four Kaiju heads their respective left arms.

Less than five minutes now. Jessica sauntered into Tango Tasmania's Conn-Pod, the sound of their boots echo in the noisy chamber as its inner workings begin to power up. "Whadya do wanna do after this?"

"Take a nap and call my sister. You?"

"There are a couple of the guys from the other crew who wanna—you know, go clubbing, and I was just wondering if you wanted to come," Jessica clarified.

"Sorry, no. I promised my sister that I'd call her later," At Jessica's expression, she added, "We can talk for a really long time." Jessica didn't hide the doubt, but let the comment past. Double checking the panels, they gave Jaime, the LOCCENT controller, the all clear. Tango Tasmania's head dropped down the shaft toward the body.

Tango Tasmania's last Kaiju was another flyer. The city had been evacuated, but it did nothing to stop the Kaiju from following the path of buildings until it found the largest one to perch itself on top of. The skyscraper was built to last under normal circumstances, but something told Angela and Jessica it wasn't designed to hold the weight of a Kaiju. The structure was slowly crumbling beneath the creature's weight, something it tried to counteract by wrapping its tail around the base just below it and keeping its wings spread.

From where they stood in the center of the city and a fair distance from their target, the creature's size was immense, its width alone well past their Jaeger's. They could see the reflection of the sunlight on its scales that were in constant movement on its forum arms. "What is this thing, again?"

"According to command? It's a Category IV, codename: Avion," Angela replied, overlooking the data stream being fed into the HUD. Jessica swallowed. This would be another first for them. The sound of jets overhead caught their and Avion's attention, Avion's head moved left to right in search of the sound. The last thing they needed was a pair of causalities on their hands if they could prevent it.

Reaching over, Angela sounded the horn and nodded to Jessica. Tango turned its back on Avion as the Kaiju's gaze finally locked on to them. The jets forgotten, the creature uncoiled its tail from around the building and pushed away from the rooftop. Avion soared allowed itself to drop for a moment before steadying its wings.

Tango's legs carried them through the maze of buildings as the creature flew overhead. "Sweet Jesus," If she could, Angela was sure Jessica's cross would've been between her teeth in an instant. Avion's body cast a shadow big enough to block out the sun from the height it was flying, the thing was far larger than it looked at a distance. "LOCCENT!"

"We read you, Tango," Jaime replied.

"Is it is supposed to be this big?" Jessica inquired nervously as she watched the creature circle above them, eyes constantly on them. "Jessica, 109 meters, 3,475 tons is the typical weight of a CIV Kaiju. Keep it together, kid," Jaime responded.

"LOCCENT, what's the ETA on backup? This is a pretty big Kaiju."

"We're working on it, Tango. Do what you can."

"Roger, that," Angela felt her partner resign herself to the idea and burry her fears before it interfered with her job.

Tango kept moving toward the open expanse of the city itself. Avion followed them, its low growl the only indication that it was tracking their movement. In other instances, they've been attacked the moment they so much as twitched a finger in a Kaiju's direction. But Avion, it seemed content with merely watching them move through the city. What that meant was anyone's guess, but they couldn't do anything to it until it came to them.

_What about the guncannon?_

_Its accuracy isn't great long range and it's not a beam cannon._

_I know, but it might get its attention._

Angela couldn't argue with that logic, but they were barely any near their- something clicked in her mind.

Jessica looked around. Angela blinked and looked toward the HUD. Avion's avatar was missing from the display. Tango Tasmania stopped. Its hull creaked as they looked back and forth around their environment, baffled. "LOCCENT, we've lost the target," Angela relayed as she glanced upward, despite knowing she couldn't see anything beyond the hull of the Conn-Pod. "Do you have a visual?"

"Visual is confirmed, it's moving right toward your position," Jamie relayed. As the LOCCENT officer completed her sentence, the growl of the creature echoed throughout the empty city followed by a thunderous boom. Tango Tasmania turned as Avion's wings crashed through the first building they laid eyes on. Avion showed no regard for the environment around it, its wings cut through the buildings around it like a knife.

Standing between two buildings, there was nowhere for them to run. _God, I wish we had more than a cannon right now,_ Jessica mused as they aimed the right arm. They pumped their right arm back and forth, charging the weapon to half power. Avion screeched in retaliation. Tango Tasmania fired its guncannon as the Kaiju collided with them. The blast fired over its shoulder, barely grazing its scales.

The corresponding buildings crumbled around them as they tried to get a hold on one another. Tango's fist collided with Avion's jaw; the Kaiju surged forward, ramming its head against the Conn-Pod. Angela and Jessica were sent reeling back, their harnesses locked in place as it tried to accommodate to the sudden change in energy.

Claws tore into metal as debris fell on top of them. Avion's arms wrapped around their upper body and its wings heaved upward, blocking the rest of the crumbling building from them. Jessica screamed as the Jaeger was lifted from the ground and thrown into the side of a building. Avion's horn cracked Tango's opal visor, Angela and Jessica struggled to keep the Avion's jaw from enclosing around the head. The Kaiju instead clamped down on the left hand's fingers as it lifted them higher into the air.

* * *

Watching Jaeger combat on television was something of a ritual in the Shatterdome. It didn't matter when or where the fight was taking place, everyone who could afford to be away from their stations, were situated themselves wherever there was a television or a radio.

LOCCENT was not a place for loitering and only a few were allowed up on that particular deck. Herc had been in the middle contemplating what to eat when the familiar sound of clumsy footfalls in combat boots broke his concentration. Mako braced herself against the railing of the stairs leading up to the serving area, huffing and puff. Herc watched her, brow furrowed. "Fighting- Jaeger, Kaiju," She huffed. "Miss Hansberry."

_Jaeger = Fighting = Kaiju. Tango Tasmania. Angela._ It made sense when he strung the words together. He looked down at the food, suddenly disinterested. "C'mon!" Mako gestured toward herself and headed back down the stairs, he followed. Herc and Mako moved against the flow of the crowd heading for the recreation center. She grabbed him by the wrist, frustrated with his pace.

Picking up her feet, they moved through the wide expanse of the hangar back toward the elevator that would take them to the upper level. They said nothing to each other on the way up, Mako concentrated her attention on chewing her fingernails. Herc was content to observe the hands on his watch, the heavy doors opened to a busy hallway.

Mako was out before him, pushing past technicians as she may. Herc followed her path, most got out of his way on principle. As if attuned to the sounds around him, LOCCENT officer Berno Dawkins, turned in his chair as Mako came to a stop just a few inches away from him. "Oi, what are you doin' here?" He blurted, more annoyed than usual if this was the first time Mako had done this.

Mako flashed her badge, the one that gave her no real clearance anywhere just yet. She was too young to join the academy (as far as Stacker was concerned) and certainly not old enough to be assigned to any maintenance team in the dome. She might as well have said "I'm the Marshall's daughter" and saw where that got her. "She's with me, Berno," Herc replied, stepping out from behind Mako. The girl frowned but said nothing.

"What's the situation?"

"Dismal if anything," Berno shot Mako another look of suspicion before shifting his attention back over to the projection. Herc's gaze follows suit. The two screens projected on the left and right. One monitored the Jaeger, and her pilots, the other the point of attack. Tango Tasmania was already in the red, the right arm was missing; hull integrity was down to seventy percent. Next to the avatar bearing the Jaeger's name Herc felt his jaw clench when he saw the specification for the Kaiju on the avatar circling Tango's. "Jesus, Berno, they're taking a Category IV on their own?"

"Ayup, that's what I said. I'm about to lose a pot to some cub scout who bet on a Kaiju."

Herc glared at the controller, the man chose to ignore his reaction. He leaned forward on the deck and stared into the projection. "Where's their backup?"

"Auckland can't get anyone close enough on the horn. Saber's still in Seoul with Nova and Cherno, they deployed Diablo Intercept and Crimson Typhoon soon as we contacted 'em, but they're not gonna get there time," Berno replied. "I'm surprised the old girl's managed this long."

"If she's anything like her pilots, she's not goin' down easy," Herc remarked. He listened to the radio chatter and tried to pick out Angela among the static and overlapping voices.

* * *

She could never tell when exactly winning fell to the wayside and the losing began. The Kaiju had the advantage that much was for certain. How it managed to keep them up in the air, dragging them across the face of every building in their proximity, was baffling.

The free fall was even worse, crashing down into the streets. Avion wasn't exactly giving them a fair chance to retaliate, not that she expected it to. The most they could is grapple with the creature when it wasn't throwing them against buildings and evading them. Avion had the clear advantage, using its weight against them at every turn.

Tango Tasmania scrambled to its feet, tearing at the ground beneath it as it slammed its right shoulder into its face. Avion fell back on its side with a howl. Tango moved to pin the creature when its tail swung upward and slashed through the left chest panel. Angela and Jessica braced themselves against the glass as the Conn-Pod's visor shattered. Avion was already up and vanishing around the corner by the time they recovered.

It moved faster than either Jessica or Angela would've liked, using the city as its shield. Every volley fired from guncannon seemed content to miss their target, instead obliterating every vacant building in their path. _This thing's toying with us,_ Jessica remarked, her anger bleeding through their link. Angela fed off of it, attempting to focus that energy into something useful. The beat of its wings kept them on edge, moving in a constant circle, unsure of where it would attack next.

"Right!"

_What?_

Angela and Jessica turned as Avion's talon's closed around Tango Tasmania's arm and pulled it from its socket. Jessica felt her right side of the run hot before going completely dead, a complete opposite of the scream that escaped Angela as she fell to her knees. Avion banked around the corner and discarded the twitching arm. Circling high, it moved to make its next attack.

* * *

Diablo Intercept and Crimson Typhoon weren't going to make it.

Striker Eureka had no pilots was and still in the troubleshooting stages.

Tango Tasmania was on its own. Mako's kept her gaze affixed to the radar, her eyes occasionally shifting to observe Herc. The man paced around in small space of the LOCCENT, the only real indication of distress besides that was in his eyes and the subtle way they flickered whenever he heard the sound of her voice and the voices of the others corresponding in the Auckland Shatterdome.

Below she could hear a group of people groan in unison, as though they were at a sporting event. Before, there had been nothing but enthusiastic cheers, rooting against the Kaiju. Now, Mako was lucky if she heard at least one person still cheering Tango Tasmania on. No, they were all holding their breath now, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

A cold nose bumped her pants leg, Mako looked down to find Max sitting next to her, wanting her attention. She welcomed the distraction, scratching behind his ears.

* * *

Tango Tasmania's offensive was desperate. With the right arm gone and their hull compromised, there was little to do but never give their enemy a chance to attack you. If they took another hit to the Conn-Pod or lost the right arm, they were dead. The weight of the Jaeger worked against them, Avion used its speed and agility to knock them off guard, break their focus.

Tango Tasmania moved clumsily through the city to evade the Kaiju's attacks. Angela's right arm hung uselessly at her side. It did no good to move it; it merely agitated the socket of the Jaeger. Avion flew overhead, claws tearing at the tops of the buildings. They ducked reflexively, moving quicker through the maze toward the harbor.

Avion swooped down from the clouds and raced toward them. "Jessie, brace yourself!" Everything was depending on how quickly Jessica reacted, how she reacted with her. Avion grabbed hold of their waist its hind legs, wrapping one muscular arm around them. Tango's feet left the ground, the Kaiju howled, pulling their weight up higher and higher.

The Jaeger flailed in its grasp, fighting to maintain stability as the creature batted its wings against their weight. Tango's head collided with Avion's jaw several times in the hopes of getting free. Even as they were thrown about in their harnesses, they stopped the Kaiju's second arm from reaching their neck. The Jaeger's hand switched. As Avion's arm surged forward they grabbed its forearm and began to pull it away from its body. Avion's free arm swung upward. The Conn-Pod shuddered as the rest of Tango's visor fell away from its face.

The Kaiju's sneer seemed to become a smile when it paused to regard them. Drool fell into the Conn-Pod at the rate of rain, Angela's heart spiked when Jessica's did, but they didn't stop to observe. Their muscles strained, reaching their breaking point when the skin of the Kaiju finally began to tear away from its body. Its bone snapped, breaking away from the muscle encased around it. Avion shrieked as its arm went flying from its body to the mercy of the winds.

The Kaiju surged forward, its teeth clamped down on the head without a second thought, its body jerked forward. _Mom! Dad! _Jessica screamed and Angela could do nothing as she fell backward into her memories. There was an ugly sound tearing in the background; the elder pilot turned as light burst through the back of the Conn-Pod's doorway. The sharp end of what could only be the Kaiju's tail shot past her and right through Jessica.

Red blinded her. She couldn't tell what was in front of her anymore. A crowd bodies smashed against her, her son's dry hair bit into the palm of her hand, the smell of blood and smoke filled her senses. The sunlight of the morning before it was obscured by buildings. The side of her face throbbed from the backhand that sent her crashing into the foot-board and the ground; shoes beating her head and back, helicopter rotors; bay water and old flannel. _Hope you're doing well. I'm bored (sad face)._ _Hope your good (smiley face)._ _Don't think. Mom. Don't think. Dad. Don't think. Don't go. Get off her! Don't touch her! Don't think. Just let it go. They're not coming back. He's not coming back._

Angela's ears throbbed at the sound of the flatline being fed into her suit, she watched as the Conn-Pod was torn in half by the tail and Avion's mouth. Sunlight blinded her further as one half of Jessica disappeared in a bloom of fire and torn metal.

Her arm moved before the rest of her knew what she was doing; she balled her hand into a fist until she could feel her fingernails through her glove. Discarding piece of the Conn-Pod in its mouth, Avion bit down on the cannon with the intention to tear remaining arm from the Jaeger's body. _Stupid bastard_, Angela thinks as everything hits her at once and pulls her down.

The Kaiju never got any higher than the clouds before the cannon fired a volley strong enough to blow the back of its head from its body. Avion's ascension deceased, its corpse fell on top of Tango Tasmania's mangled body and they plummeted in spiral.

* * *

The worst thing in the world was knowing there about a thousand or so more miles between them. He couldn't just get on a helicopter and head straight for her (not now anyway).

Anyone who'd been watching the fight on the television knew how and when the Jaeger crashed landed; spiraling out of control, thrusters failing to maintain a steady propulsion as they sped closer and closer toward the harbor. Avion broke Tango's landing, their combined weight snapped the harbor bridge in half where it met in the middle.

Herc zoned out. The screams, the sound of both suits flat lining before Tango Tasmania's beacon vanished from the projection in conjunction with the blood red avatar that signified the Kaiju's death. All it put him back in a place in his head he never wanted to visit again. Everyone was watching him, eyes wide and uncertain of how he would react. Mako came in the clearest, she held Max in her arms, he could hear the dog whining as he tried to squirm out of her arms and jump into his.

Automatically he extended his arms, his expression stony. Mako was only too happy to give the dog up to him. Max made himself comfortable, short arms attempting to hug him, and his chin resting where his right paw lay. Mako regarded everyone around her with uncertain eyes, her fingers pressed into her palm she kept her arms at her side and back straight. "I'm sure they're fine, Mr. Hansen," She didn't quite believe the words herself. The memory of her own denial drifting back up from the recesses of her mind. Her parents would come back little Mako thought to herself, they were just lost.

Herc, however, wasn't a little girl. He, like sensei, was someone who was familiar with death and combat. She could only speculate. He kept his hand firm on Max's back as he nodded numbly in response. "I have to call her sister," He said. "She'd want to know."

"Of course. We'll handle things here, Mr. Hansen."

He didn't remember leaving the LOCCENT. Traveled through the Shatterdome in search of his bedroom; he could feel Max breathing against his chest, the occasional whine escaping him. He sat on the bed, Max slumped down onto his lap and jumped down onto the floor and shimmied under the bed.

"I have to call Margret," He said. Max barked. Herc jumped a little, his breathing picked up. The bulldog stood on his hind legs, his cell phone was clamped between his teeth, but it wasn't what Herc was seeing though he took it from him.

Max was still wearing Angela's wedding ring on his collar.

* * *

Rescue and hazmat crews were sent from the Shatterdome almost immediately once the dust settled over the disaster. Tango Tasmania lay on top of the headless Kaiju, bleeding black, red and blue. Angela hung from what remained of the Jaeger's Conn-Pod, one leg free while the other was trapped.

Half aware and slow to realize to what happen, she listened to the sound of her breathing fall in rhythm with the alarm. The rescue team worked to free her from the Jaeger while the hazmat team neutralized the blood running into the harbour.

Nothing responded when she fell into the arms of a dozen people - maybe it was just five, she couldn't remember. There's twinge in her left leg that progresses into a pain that feels like a pair jaws on her legs. Her helmet falls from her head and the next thing she hears is helicopter rotors.

_Jessie_.

* * *

Crimson Typhoon and Diablo Intercept were able to aid in the aftermath of Tango Tasmania's fight with Avion. The Mark-4 and Mark-2 Jaeger waded through the harbour, carrying the remains of the Kaiju toward the ships that were assigned to carry them from the site.

Both bodies were tangled in the frame of the bridge, Tango literally speared by the beam of the bridge while Avion hung onto the frame of the Jaeger in a death grip. It was a wonder that the reactor was untouched. The triplets, Cheung, Hu and Jin regarded the mangled mess of machine and monster with morbid curiosity.

Neither of them had ever seen a Jaeger at its lowest point; torn to pieces and gutted. The HUD picked up traces of human blood splattered inside the ruined Conn-Pod and spied the unfortunate end of what was left of the dead pilot. 「Do you think she felt anything?」The youngest inquired from behind as the third arm rotated with the other and grabbed hold of the Kaiju's body. 「I'm not even sure what hit her to be honest.」 Cheung remarked as Avion's middle tore away from the rest of its body. Tango Tasmania slumped further into the harbour. The Wei's deliberated over what to do. The worse that could possibly happen if they pulled her out was taking the harness with them.

Typhoon's free hand worked its way around the body and pulled. 「Hey, Camilla, Sofia!」

Diablo Intercept turned in response, the spotlights on either side of its head illuminating the diminishing light of the environment. "What is it, Typhoon?"

"Call signs, Typhoon, call signs," Sofia replied sardonically. Crimson Typhoon's head shook in a manner that reflected the triplet's exasperation from the unnecessary reminder. It's not like they were using walkie talkies. "We found a body," Hu relayed, extending the right arm that cradled Jennifer Hardwick. Diablo Intercept moved through the water toward them, the Wei flinched slightly when their spotlights hit their scope square in the eye. Camilla and Sofia were careful not to touch the body as their HUD examined the body. 「We don't know where the rest of her is.」 Hu remarked.

"LOCCENT," Sofia relayed with a frown. "We've found the other body."

"Can you identify which one it is?"

「Jessica Hardwick. Ranger Hansberry's co-pilot.」 Jin said.

"Come again, Typhoon?"

"They said, Jessica Hardwick," Camilla repeated.

"Right, sorry. Bring her in or take the remains to one of the HAZMAT teams," Jaime stated. "Can you determine the cause of death?"

"We can, but I'd rather not say on the coms. It's not pretty."

* * *

_November 22_ _nd_ _, 2019_

Hansberry sisters were all bite and very little bark. They'd cut you worse with words than their fists, the complete opposite him and his brother. He barely mustered up the courage to call Margret when his phone began to ring.

Lying in his bed, Max curled against his middle; he picked up on the second ring, and uttered a sleepy "hello?" He expected a very angry little sister. Instead, he's greeted by the sound of an irate Uncle Mac and Margret demanding silence while she retreated into another room.

He's barely sitting upright when she started asking questions. "Where is she? Do you know if she's okay?"

"No. No, I don't know anything. They haven't told me anything."

"Well, why not? Aren't you involved with that Pentecost fella?"

"Pentecost isn't here, Margie. I don't know who's handling the retrieval."

"This is all my fault. I should've- I should've stopped her, changed her mind."

"You can't blame yourself for this, Margie. You know there's no changing her mind once it's made up."

"I should've tried, anyway. Why didn't you stop her? You're her husband, why didn't-"

"We got a divorce, Marge."

There was a squeak on the other end of the line, like she swallowed something. "...She never told me."

Herc's brow creased. "I figured you'd be the first to know," He said.

"No. No, I never knew. Why didn't-?"

"Look, I'm gonna try and find out what's happening, I'll come get you as soon as I know anything."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I promise."

* * *

The first Shatterdome Margret Hansberry ever visited was Sydney's. She'd barely gotten over the idea of being treated like a VIP before the jeep traveled through the double doors leading into the huge facility. Herc was waiting for her on the other side, hands in his pockets and still wearing that atrocious vest of his. Standing next to him was a girl who stood no taller than herself, wearing combat boots and hoddie. Max sits between them and she's reminded of what her sister told her about their separation.

She jumped out of the jeep before it came to a pull stop, the wind picked up around her and she looked off to the far right. A helicopter was just starting up. Pulling her jacket closer around her she moved toward Herc, shoulders hunched. He looked just as bad as she did. "Where is she?" She bellowed over the roar of the chopper. Herc nodded in the direction of the chaos kicking her skirts up. "She's in Auckland," He replied. "Care to join me?"

His eyes wander over to the helicopter, Margret doesn't waste her time asking why and what fors. She nods her head and followed him when he and the girl start moving toward the helicopter. Max trotted excitedly behind them, if dogs were even remotely capable of carrying on a conversation, she might've chewed his floppy ears off for abandoning her sister.

There was a man waiting in the chopper when the doors slid open. Margret held her breath, taken aback by his studious expression, but she recognized him right off. "Mr. Pentecost, hiya," The greeting comes off as awkward, but he receives the message, either by virtue of her poor communication skills or the fact that something just passed between him and Herc as she clambered into the cramped space.

The space smells of metal and leather, she feels out of place and everyone except Max knows it. Max sits on her lap and watches as the world below disappears. She could think of nothing except reaching her sister. Her nails were nubs because of it. _Don't be dead Angela, don't be dead._

* * *

Waiting is the hardest part about arriving to the Shatterdome's hospital wing. It's certainly the longest he'd been in Margret's company in years since she was fourteen and babysitting Chuck. Angela's doctor, Maxine Guevara, was certain she'd be fine, but she wasn't getting back on feet or in a Jaeger anytime soon. The mental shock alone was probably going to keep her grounded until medical leave was over. "When can we see her? I mean, can I see her, she is my sister?" Margret spoke a mile a minute, never giving Herc a chance to assert himself in the initial conversation.

"I can't say just yet, you have to wait until Dr. Guevara comes out of surgery."

"You said she was fine-"

"And she is. She just needs a little fixing up. You don't get out of a scrap like that and not come out busted." The nurse almost sounded offended that Margret didn't know otherwise.

"Busted how?" Herc asked before Margret could tear into the nurse.

"It's internal bleeding mostly; some of it'll heal on its own, the rest has to be fixed," The nurse fixed her gaze on Margret, who started to pace. "She also suffered lacerations, concussion, and a compound fracture in her right leg."

"But she'll be fine?" Herc inquired.

"If all goes well in surgery, then, yes," The nurse said. "Trust me. The Jaeger took most of the beating." She left before Margret could make any further remarks.

No one would tell him what happened to Jessica, there wasn't even a mention of her when they arrived at the Shatterdome. He assumed she was dead, hence the silence, but the nature of her death must've been something they wanted to keep from him and Margret, considering what happened the last time his ex wound up in a situation like this.

Pentecost was fairly maintained throughout the whole ordeal. For all his resolve, Herc felt his knees buckle every time he looked down the hall that would take him to Angela once allowed. Margret wasn't any better, but she had the virtue of being distracted by Max, who preoccupied her. Mako actually appeared to be using her clipboard for something other than shielding herself from outward troubles; she interacted with the nurses on a level that impressed him, but it appeared to be par for the course for Pentecost.

"It never gets any easier does it?"

"…No. It doesn't."

"Watching your family hurt," Stacker fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve. "You can tell yourself it doesn't do any good, worrying, but you worry and when something does happen, you can barely think of what to do."

Herc stared out at the desk situated in across from him. His hands flipped the pages of the wrinkled magazine on the coffee table out of habit. "That goes without saying," Herc replied. "How is Sevier, by the way?"

"Last I checked in with her, Tam was doing well. Walking around, making sweaters," Stacker said. "That was six weeks ago. I haven't heard back from her."

"Marshall," Mako stepped in front of the table that separated her from her father. Stacker and Herc looked up in response. Mako had the clipboard against her chest again, the pin twirled in her hand. "There's a situation that needs your attention in LOCCENT."

"Have you got what you need?" Stacker asked.

"Yes, all relevant data on Miss Hansberry and Jessica Hardwick has been collected from Nurse Cindy," She said, handing him the clipboard. Stacker stood from the chair, he looked over the clipboard for a moment and nodded appreciatively. "I've gotta go," He said. "If anything changes-"

"I'll give ya a ring, yeah," Herc finished. Pentecost allowed hisself to linger, even as Mako moved to leave, thinking the matter was done with. "I'll be fine, get outta here," Herc assured his friend. Never one for second guessing the decisions of others, Stacker departed from the waiting room, Mako trailing beside him.

* * *

Margret and Herc waited for hours. They fell asleep in shifts, watching the clock tick time away. Neither would leave the other's side when they suggested finding someplace to sleep (a motel, the Shatterdome quarters, anywhere but the waiting room). When he woke up the next time, Margret was still oblivious to the world, curled up in an awkward position on the couch, Max sleeping in her lap. Dr. Guevara appeared from around the corner, wearing blue scrubs tinged in blood. His breath caught in his throat as reached over and to wake Margret. The younger Hansberry's red hair fell away from her face as she sat up, Max jumped onto the floor and began to pace. "Is she, okay?" She blurted.

"Yes, your sister's fine, Ms. Hansberry," She answered. "Surgery went off without a hitch." Margret covered her mouth to hide her sob. Herc wrapped one arm around her shoulder and steadied her as her legs gave out.

Margret was still crying when they're finally allowed to see Angela. She lay prone in the bed, mouth slightly agape. She was a mess of bruises and bandages, but there isn't the slightest indication of pain on her face. "What happened to her partner?"

"Pentecost wouldn't tell me, but- I think she didn't make it," Herc explained.

"Oh," She was quiet for a moment. "The last person I saw like this was mum," Margret hiccupped. "She wasn't bruised or anything, but she was sleeping - I found her in her room. Angie hadn't come around to talk to her in a while… but it didn't matter, because she was dead already."

"That's not gonna happen to her."

"Dunno how you can be so sure," Margret sniffed. "I saw those things hit the harbor on television. By all rights, she should be dead. She might still die."

"Hey," Margret looked up from her sister. Herc took Angela's hand in his. "Your sister's a fighter, she's not gonna die because of some bloody Kaiju. Not when she's got you to see again."

Margret almost gave him a similar sentiment, but thought better of it. "You better be right," She said.

* * *

_November 24, 2019_

Herc and Margret were in and out of the Shatterdome's hospital wing for days. In that time, Margret preoccupied herself with filing through her sister's bedroom, counting the little trinkets she got from her Kaiju victories (a scale there, a tooth fragment here; maybe a gift one of the coastal city inhabitants gave her), frowning at the amass of unopened boxes that sat under the bed in a neat row.

Herc would choose to linger outside the bedroom door until she dragged him in, bothered by his odd ritualistic need not to encroach on her sister's territory. "What she doesn't know won't kill her," She told him. "I'm not certainly gonna tell her you were in here with me."

Herc keeps his hands in his pockets, content not to touch anything until he sees the picture of himself, Angela and Chuck on his 8TH birthday, taped on the wall next to a Polaroid photograph of her and Jessica Hardwick in a bear hug, just two weeks earlier. "She was cute," Margret commented, tracing the girl's jawline. "Probably a lot of fun to, judging by Angie's expression."

Somewhere around Margret's second visit to the hospital, Angela began to stir. Margret was perhaps a little unrestrained and deprived of sleep, to hold back the squeak of excitement when her sister opened one eye and looked right at her. "She didn't say anything, but she was conscious and they said that was good thing."

Of course it was a good thing, Herc thought, he just hated that he wasn't present when it happened.

* * *

_November 25, 2019_

Coming out of a fog was difficult, navigating through pain was harder. Some part of Angela knew she wasn't in a Jaeger, the other was consciously fighting to claw its way free of it. She still felt it weighing heavy on her back, still felt it being torn away from her body as every piece of the bridge lodged itself into their middle.

She felt her spine disconnect from her body when the Kaiju speared her. Jessie. That's what woke her up.

Her middle half, her better half, it was numb - quiet.

"Jessie?" Her voice came out in a whisper. Her eyes opened, dark filled her vision in succession with the sound of the heart monitor. "Jessie?" Jessie. There was no one on the other end to receive her voice; the tug and pull was there, but the bond that tethered them together was frayed, swinging in darkness. She tried to move, pain shot up her leg and she went rigid. She saw of flashes of red, the light of guncannon before it off. The weight of her body against the mattress became clear, Angela let herself cry.

* * *

She was still awake when Margret and Herc came around for another visit. Angela recognized the high and low of Margret's voice immediately as it followed the click-clack of her heels. Her head is fuzzy from the drugs they gave her to dull the pain in her leg, she barely catches herself when her sister throws her arms around her. She doesn't try to stop her when she squeezed her.

"I thought you were a goner," Margret said, mascara running down her face. Angela struggles to maintain a coherent line of thought as she wipes her sister's face clean with her sheet. "I'm just really glad you're here," It was best she could think to say and it seemed all Margret needed to hear.

"Oh, God, what happened to your eye?" Herc leaned a little to the left to get a look at his ex, but he couldn't see past Margret's back.

"Doc says it's normal after what happened," She answered. "It'll get better, I promise."

Removing herself from her sister's embrace, Margret tucked her hair behind her ear. "I, uh, brought some company."

"It wouldn't be the company lurking in the door like a schoolboy?" Angela could barely raise her arm to point. Margret cast a look over her shoulder. Herc was indeed lurking in the doorway, watching the two sisters like they were most interesting people in the world. "Be nice, Angie, he was worried about you. We all were," Margret admonished. "If worries were promises-" Angela fell back against the pillows behind her, grimacing at the twinge of pain in her leg. She ignored the glare her sister shot her as she said, "Well, c'mon in, Hercules. My nails are broken, so I can't scratch you."

Herc approached the bed at casual pace, shoulders back and his chin up. "I wish you'd call me Herc," He said, daring to bring her 'recent' habit to center point. Angela yawned. "Do you know what happened to my Jaeger?" Herc's eyes switched over to Margret, her sister wore something of an exasperated look as she pleaded silently with him not to say anything. "I'm not sure if it's my place-"

"You're a Ranger, I'm a Ranger, your place is as good any," Angela interjected. "What happened to her?"

"She's in a pretty bad way, your team isn't even sure it's worth trying to fix," He said.

"And the Kaiju?"

"The Kaiju's dead, Angie. Brute can't walk around without a head."

Angela's shoulders sagged; she looked in direction of her sister. "Could you give us a minute, sis?"

"Sure, I need to check on Max, anyway," Margret pressed a kiss to her forehead and moved away from the bed. She shared a brief look with Herc as she stepped out of the room. Herc waited until Margret's footfalls were far enough away before he focused his attention back on Angela.

She patted the edge of the bed; he moved across the room a casual pace and placed himself in the chair next to the bed. "How long has it been since the fight?"

"Almost a week," Herc answered. "You've been out for six days."

There's another beat before she allowed herself to speak. "What did they do with her body?"

"Angie-"

"I know what happened to her, Herc, I felt it," She said. "I just want to know- if they found her." She turned to face him. Herc contemplated his answer; his mind found itself reliving the very moment he told her about their son's death. She'd been hysterical, clawing at his shirt through half-awareness and demanding that he tell her the truth, stop lying to her.

The circumstances here were different; she knew her partner was dead, but the confirmation of her remains might send them back into the same situation. "…I haven't be told anything, but, if they did find her," He stopped when he heard the monitor spike. "Angela-" He placed a hand on her wrist. "Angie, look at me." Angela pulled her wrist away from his hand, hand curling into a fist. She opened her eyes and focused on him. "If they did find her, I'm sure they've taken care of everything. Yeah?"

"Why am I still here?"

He stopped short of answering her, taken aback by the question. He could play dumb, comment on her leg, but he knew exactly what she meant. "You really think anyone would be better off if you were dead?" He asked. Angela shook her head, tears running down her face. "All I know is that there are two kids dead- because of me."

"You had nothing to do with what happened to her-"

"I was her pilot, I was supposed to look after her, protect her," She protested.

"You were supposed to look after each other, and you did. What happened- it wasn't in your control." He stood up from the chair, Angela's breathing accelerated, interrupted by hiccups. He took her earlier invitation and sat on the edge of the bed. "Everyone around me keeps dying or they disappear. I don't have- I'm not," Angela clutched at the bed sheets. "I don't want to be here anymore if it means I have to keep going through this."

"You're thinking- you're thinking of killing yourself?" The question fell clumsily from his mouth.

Angela shook her head. "I'm tired, Herc. I'm so fucking tired."

"Angela, I know this has been hard, but things will get better."

"No, they won't."

"We're winning, there's still a chance that things can get better. Margret, she needs you. I need y-."

He stopped when Angela looked up at him. Her eyes were bloodshot, worse so because of what happened in the Jaeger. "You don't need me. I don't want to be needed. I hate you."

"Angela you can tell me you hate me until we're old and gray and it won't make a difference. I'll respect how you feel, but it won't change how I feel about you."

She continued to stare him down, eyes at half mass, body trembling. "That is a really fucked up thing to say to me, Herc. You don't know shit about me- how your feelings more important than mine?"

"I never said they-"

"What about how I feel? What about my fucking life? If I don't want it, shouldn't I be allowed to just leave? Fuck you!" She shoved him off the bed. He barely caught himself as he stumbled forward.

"Shit," Herc paced around the room with hands behind his head. He watched her break down, his mind and his instincts pulled him in two different directions. "I've never been good at talking to you when you're-shit!"

"Get out of my room!"

"I don't want you to kill yourself. That's it! That's all I can think to say you."

"Get out!"

When Margret came back Angela was crying her way to sleep. "What the hell did you do, Hercules?" Herc tried to explain the situation to her as best as he could. Margret couldn't believe him, even when she recognized the words as her sisters. Margret pushed him out of the room and told him to take a walk. Max was trailing behind him as he returned to Angela's bedroom.

Suicidal thoughts weren't uncommon among Jaeger pilots who lost partners, the doctors had been prepared for it, he was sure, but it still scared him to hear her say that to him. He relayed what he knew to Dr. Guevara. The doctor had kept her cool while her and told him to leave the situation alone until Angela had time to rest. When he came back to her hospital room, Margret looked ready to stand guard at her bedroom door. Herc convinced her to head back to Angela's quarters. He'd watch over her as soon as they decided to kick him out of the medical wing.

* * *

_November 27, 2019_

Herc stirred at the touch of fingers curling around the short hairs on his head. Rubbing his face against his arm, he lifted his gaze up from behind his arm and locked gazes with the woman staring down at him. "You're awake," He sat up, her fingers fell away from his hair and her hand found its place back atop the head of her not-so-faithful companion, Max.

The dog had found its way out of her bedroom from Margret's side back to his. Max was insistent on joining Angela on the bed, uncomfortable with how little space he was afforded on Herc's lap. She barely stirred when he flopped on her left side and propped his head on her arm.

"So, it would appear," Angela sighed. "Shouldn't you be somewhere killing Kaiju?"

"Not at the moment, no," He replied. "I'm here as long as Margret's outta of the room. She's sleep."

"Margret sleeps like the dead, it'll be a while," Angela said. "They haven't paired you up with another pilot?"

"They have," Herc said. "Fella named Michael Courbet. But it's temporary, consider-"

"Considering he's the pilot of Vulcan Spectre," Angela finished.

"Yeah, we've got Striker Eureka,"

"Ooh, the new hotness." Herc frowned, Angela shrugged. "It something Jessie- it's stupid."

"No, it's not stupid," He laughed. "It's just weird coming from you is all."

"I've said stupider things," Angela remarked. "Anyway, you're lucky to have him, I heard Courbet's great."

"Yeah, I'm sure they'll pair you up with someone once you're done mend-" Angela regarded him with a sideways glance. "I mean, if you want to, that is." Angela didn't answer him right away. She busied herself with caressing the wrinkly skin of her pet, Max leaned into her caress. "I don't think have a choice in that," She said. "I don't have a Jaeger, I doubt I'll be let anywhere near another after what happened."

"What happened wasn't your fault, Angela," Herc said. "You were sent against a Category IV on your own and the fact that you did as well you did is amazing."

"Max's collar is missing, what did you do with it?" She asked, changing the subject.

"I didn't do anything with it, Margret might've done something though," He said with a frown. "She likes to wash his things. She was absolutely appalled that I practically let him create a second bed with all his fur."

Angela snorted. "That sounds like my sister, neat freak extraordinaire. What time is it?"

"Quarter to twelve," Herc replied. "You wouldn't be looking for this, would you?" He extended his arm over the bed and opened his hand. Angela stared down at his hand; her ring was sitting pretty in his palm, linked on a chain next to her dog tag.

She started to wonder what happened after the crash; what happened to her suit, her underwear- stupid things in retrospect, really. Reaching up, she let her finger trace the running vertical down her face. "I thought I lost them. The tags, I mean."

"They were about the only thing left of your belongings after the fight," Herc said. "The ring, Margie wanted me to give it back to you." Angela relieved him of the necklace and sat it on the bed next to Max.

"Thank you."

"Thank your sister, she stopped them from throwing them out," Herc said.

"Thank you, Margret," She said.

"Listen- about the other day-"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"I know you don't, but I want you know that I'm here of you, no matter what. And so is your sister."

Angela didn't trust herself to speak, so she just nodded, hoping he would drop the matter altogether.

* * *

_December 11, 2019_

Time moved at a snail's pace. Margret became a literal fixture in the Shatterdome. Everyone referred to her as "Margie" and can't believe the two of them are related ("you're so different from her!"), as though they were supposed to be identical in manner and personality. An expert on all things holistic and organic, Margret took to feeding her blender vegetables.

The virtue of the human body's notoriety for bouncing back from broken bones spurred her on to make her drinks full of all her daily vitamins and other essentials. "Drink this and your bones'll be twice as tough," Margret declared. "Mum would be proud of me- both of us, really. Me looking after myself, you saving the world from monsters."

Angela appreciated her company, but she wanted her to go back home and resume her life. There was no point in losing her job because she chose to remain at her side, but knowing Margret, she likely worked something out with her boss.

She dipped in and out of the fog that clouded her head. The drugs weren't helping her sense of self, but it distracted her from the pain, allowed her think of other things. Nightmares were rarity sometimes. If they happened regularly, however, she could never remember anything besides how they made her feel. Worthless, weak and frightened.

* * *

_December 15, 2019_

Herc was and out of the medical wing, they don't talk much and that's partly because Angela can't bring herself to simply relax in his presence. She's afraid he'll bring up that day and she doesn't want to talk to him about that.

But he doesn't.

He plays games with Max, he talks to her about mechanics, how many bolts he managed to find on a Jaeger, anything. His voice filled her head, clashed with Margret's. The one time she woke up from a nightmare while he was present, she elbowed him in the face. He stopped sleeping with his head so close to her arm, though she apologized for the involuntary action that left him black-eyed. "Can't be any worse than the other bruises you gave me," He said, ice pack against his eye.

"That was a joke-" Angela just stared him.

She spent the rest of the days frazzled by the tiniest sound - something that doesn't go unnoticed by her ex. He keeps trying to connect with her until he's contacted by Pentecost. He's needed back in Sydney.

Margret actually hugs him before he goes, a sign that's something changed between the two. "Don't be a stranger. It's lonely 'round here when there's only this cranky bird to talk to," She told him. Angela glared at the two of them, silently plotting her sister's demise once she was able-bodied and upright. Herc spared her the jokes. "I dunno when I'll be able to see you again, but I'll when I get the chance. Don't hesitate to call me," He told her.

Angela felt the hairs on her neck bristle as she nods. "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**Author's Note: **So, I managed to find some free time to edit this and halved the final chapter into another fragment. Again for the sake of an update (i.e. "Still alive. School still sucks").

**(1):** Constructive Criticisms and the like is welcome, especially what with the themes in this particular part of the finale.

**(2):** Angela's father, Franklin "Frank" Hansberry (1953-2000), was RAAF pilot during the Vietnam war. He was given prescription pills for malaria. After he was sent back home (1975), married Jennifer Kazinsky, Angela's mother (1950-2001). Angela was born two/three years later (February 1979). He took the pills whenever he thought was experiencing symptoms of malaria, all of which compounded his PTSD. He fought frequently with his wife and when he lost his job, took it out on his daughters by yelling them.

**(3):** There a fantastic piece of artwork on Deviantart by by ptitvinc ("My Jaeger") that actually captures how I would think Tango Tasmania could look like (sans the chainsaw blade on its left arm).

**(4):** You can read about Jessica Hardwick at my tumblr greatrunner. Look for the tag "My Headcanon".

**(5):** Avion is blatantly based on the Colossi of the same name in _Shadow of the Colossus_ (PS2, 2005) and Devimon from _Digimon Adventure_.

**(6):** About the Shatterdomes in Auckland and Sydney. I had this theory that they were all connected through a database/system (whatever) and no matter the Jaeger launched, the other Shatterdomes could monitor the activity going on in that specific area.

**Next Part:** _07: My Feet Have Led Me Straight Into My Grave (3)_


End file.
